Wanderer
by bookofDeliria
Summary: There are bonds that run deeper than blood. Some need a covenant. Others rely on the same pain. And there are those which start out of hatred and curiosity, the ones nobody understands.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso.

**Prologue**

Pitch-black eyes watched the will-o'-the-wisps flutter above the moonlit surface; small, perpetually moving stars rippling the stagnant water. Standing knee-deep in the pond, ruffles and frilly skirts gathered up in right hand, she felt the cold against bare skin like a thousand pricking needles. However, after choking on smoke and dirt and noise, that was an almost welcomed sensation.

If she closed her eyes, she could see gaslight and dark streets, hear the trotting of the horses, the metallic tang of fog sharp in her senses. If she opened her eyes, all she could see was shadows.

_Darkness there, and nothing more._

"My princess?" a calm voice rose above the stillness. Really... It had been only a matter of time.

She turned in his direction, the sudden motion scaring the shiny creatures away, scattering and bumping into each other, to lastly disappear like blown out candlelight. Indigo eyes took in her appearance for a mere second, before widening into saucers.

_One, two, thr-_

"My princess!" the butler sounded scandalized. "What are you-please! Get out of there immediately! All that filth and it's cold and your dress-"

"Oh be quiet, you potato with eyes," she rolled her eyes at his ramblings. "I've been in worse conditions."

"But-"

"No."

She walked out of the water, muddy feet leaving trails on the dried grass. A hand rose to pat lightly the tall butler's cheek.

Smile.

"You need not worry so much about me."

Picking up her shoes, she pretended she didn't hear his exasperated sigh. Setting her feet on the cobblestone, she winced slightly at the contact. The calluses and blisters certainly didn't make walking barefoot easy.

"Is there anything wrong, my princess?"

There was no reaction of hers that could escape unnoticed by the dashing butler, standing dutifully by her side. Not even the batting of a lash.

"If I may, I could always carry you on the way back to the manor."

He could. He could carry thrice her weight and to him it would seem nothing heavier than a feather. Nonetheless... There is a reason why pride is considered a sin.

"I can walk back by myself."

...

She knew the peaceful stroll came to its end when the manor appeared in the midst of the dark forest, a giant of bricks and steel rising from the misty grounds.

Luke cleared his throat, a call for her attention. "May I remind you..."

Like she ever forgot anything.

"...that tomorrow night, your mother is going to hold a party of sorts in the main hall?"

She almost snorted. The Baroness, with her obsession of the grand and frivolous, never cared to learn the meaning of 'simple' and 'small'. It had been a week already since the preparations had begun.

She looked dryly at Luke, wondering what the catch was. Whatever it was that he had to tell her, Tanya Chesterfell knew she was not going to like it. Not even a bit.

"And, of course your presence is absolutely required. For the whole duration of the event."

This was not it. She always sneaked out after the first hour of being there. Nobody ever noticed her absence. What was it that Luke wasn't telling her?

"There is going to be a special guest... Whom you will have to keep company and entertain."

She almost stopped dead in her tracks. What?

Luke shriveled under her hard glare.

"Well..." nervous laugh. "That's what your mother said..."

"If that old hag thinks she can make me kiss someone's ass for an entire evening, then she clearly is not in her right state of mind," she said coolly.

"Ta-Tatianna!" he choked in his own spit. "Keep your tongue in check!"

"I thought I had told you not to call me like that," she narrowed her eyes at him. "I hate that name."

"And I've told you I don't want to hear anymore such fool language coming out of your mouth!"

"Ah," she turned her head lightly towards him, a quirk of her lips thrown in his direction. "But that is part of my charm."

Sometimes, Luke felt like he was able to throtle her.

"Who is this 'guest' I'm supposed to entartain?"

He shrugged, a peculiarly human gesture, which she had taught him herself how to do.

"I'm afraid Lady Anastassia did not tell me this particular bit of information."

Tanya looked at him, bored and impatient.

"But of course," serene smile, eyes closed composedly. "I gathered everything that could be relevant to my princess. After all, it is you whom I am bound to, not Lady Anastassia. It seems this guest has started to investigate on the Chesterfell's family business. Apparently his interest is nothing personal. Instead... He acts under the Queen's orders."

She stepped on a twig, breaking it in half.

"Then, I highly doubt she is interested in the whole family's doings."

"...Indeed, my princess."

Sigh.

"Tomorrow I will see for myself. Now... I'm curious to learn how much this man knows."

Her voice sounded amused, suddenly. Luke glanced at her. She didn't see this anything more than a funny little challenge, did she? Just something to spice up her rather monotone day.

"What is his name?"

"Ciel Phantomhive, my princess."

...

**Author note: **This prologue took me two days to finish, mainly because I had no idea where I wanted to go with it. This is a glimpse of my main OC's personality, who was supposedly the main character in an original story I was going to write.

I chose the Kuroshitsuji fandom mainly because Ciel and Sebastian's story is dark and compelling, even though I had never thought I would write historical fiction... Too much research to do, and research has always ruined me. As in, I do way too much of it.

However the series lack a strong female character, and I worked to adapt Tanya to this world. Besides Tanya, there are also going to be other OCs, all already existing characters in my mind that I'm forcing to live in the Kuroverse. They are going to be introduced one by one, and if someone complains about why they are needed, I remind that someone that my character hasn't lived till now in a vacuum: she has family, friends and experiences.

This story is eventually going to be a romance. However, do not expect even mentions of a possible one till the Circus arc, at least. The reasons will become clear later.

I intend to write the introductory arc, which will be a few chapters with original material. After it's ended I will continue with the other manga arcs.

Now, some things I'd like to clarify:

- The story is set right after Jack the Ripper's arc.

- I hate descriptions. I always skip them whenever I read, therefore in my writing I tend to keep them short and precise. If they are not necessary, I usually cut them completely.

-The will-o'-the-wisps are lights in foklore seen by travellers at night, mainly over swamps and marshes. In popular belief they are either fae or merely ghost lights. Another well-known name is also jack-o'-lanterns.

-The fact that Tanya has gathered her skirts in her right hand may seem irrelevant; but in the Victorian period women were required that whenever they needed to hold up their dresses, they always had to use their right hand. However, this was only for emergencies, since a woman wasn't allowed to show even the glimpse of an ankle.

-The words in italics are a quotation from Edgar Allan Poe's 'The Raven'.

-I have dropped a few hints on what Luke really is. Nonetheless, this is Kuroshitsuji, and few butlers are human...

-The 'potato with eyes' is a reference to 'The fault in our stars'. Amazing book, awesome movie.

Please, review and tell me your thoughts. It would be appreciated.


	2. Chapter 1: Beginning of sorrows

**Disclaimer**: Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso.

**Chapter 1:**

**Beginning of sorrows**

"Everything is going as planned."

The dark cloth swished as he turned to look at himself in the mirror. A single blue eye stared at his own reflection; the perfect figure of a nobleman. Though utterly annoyed by this, the Earl had to admit it. That idiot did have a taste for fashion.

"I was careful to leave traces that would appear not as obvious as an amateur's work, but not subtle enough to be overlooked either, my Lord."

"They played right into my trap," Ciel Phantomhive eyed the invitation on his desk. "So predictable."

Disdain. And also a lot of bitterness in his voice.

"Had it not been such a hassle to collect information on that girl... This would not be necessary."

Calling it a "hassle" was an understament. Trying to gather intelligence on her had proved completely fruitless; many people knew her, however all they had to offer were rumours. Rumours were not what the Queen's Watchdog was interested in. Apparently she was reclusive and didn't participate much in London's social life; something highly unusual for a young woman belonging to the upper class. This became even more bizarre considering her own mother's often lavish events, which the Baroness was particularly famous for.

"I wonder, young master..."

Mocking tone. The boy looked snidely at the butler.

"If the reluctance in accepting that invitation, arises from your complete lack of dancing skills?"

Irked, he snatched away the offered walking cane, doing nothing but adding to the demon's amusement.

"Let's go."

"...Yes, my Lord."

...

The mass of wavy locks was merely brushed over her right shoulder. Skilled fingers secured the pale strands of braided hair with an ornate hairclip. A twist to keep it all from falling on her back, and it was done.

"Your mother is going to have a fit."

A cheerful smile. Sparks almost flew around her.

"That's the plan."

He decided not to comment on it. Grabbing the bottle of the creamy cosmetic paste, he applied a bit more on her bare shoulders. Just to be sure. Precaution never hurt anybody.

The butler's hands smoothed over the creamy silk of her long dress. She looked down and frowned lightly.

"Whoever invented the corset, deserves to be squizeed to death with one. "

"Please, my princess. It is bad enough already that you don't wear one daily."

He quickly grabbed her hand before she had the chance to reply, sliding the long glove on her forearm to her elbow, the fabric disappearing under the layers of her sleeve. She looked at him annoyed, and pulled the other on by herself.

"I suppose you have not forgotten of our guest, my princess."

Tanya clutched her forehead in a desperate manner.

"Don't remind me. The hag thinks she is intimidating him, letting him know that she is aware what he's doing. I must have spent at least two hours trying to convince her. Even talking to a wall is more productive."

Luke sighed. "That was to be expected. Lady Anastassia is surely a stubborn woman."

A last once-over. Nothing less than perfect.

"Do you know if your father has been filled in with the lastest occurrencies?"

She shrugged. "I doubt Anastassia would inform him willingly. However..."

Wry smile.

"The old man is not one to be underestimated, even if he is always in that pitiful state."

"Do you?"

...

"Pity is a human emotion."

That was all the answer he would get from her on this topic. Tanya did not feel like elaborating on it. Not after such a long time.

She headed for the door.

"Well, are you coming or not?"

Luke gulped.

"Um... Well, you see, my princess... Your mother actually ordered me to..."

"...To?"

"...To stay away from the main hall tonight."

He said it quickly, such a contrast to his stammering sentences of before.

"She what?"

The murderous intent was pretty tangible at this point.

"But please," nervous laugh, palms up in a peaceful gesture. "It is not necessary to cause a scene. She just thought it would be better if I was not much present around you. To cease the rumors."

"Ah. The rumors."

Tanya could not care less about the rumors. However the Baroness lived for her reputation, and therefore she liked pretending that she tried to keep her as clean as possible too.

_Pretentious hypocrite. _

She could always take him with her nonetheless. Just to defy the hag. Nevertheless, it was a trivial matter; not enough to compesate for the quarrel that would follow.

"All right," she would let her mother win this round. "Anyway, I doubt there is going to be anything that I will be unable to handle by myself. I'll see you later, Luke."

"Of course, my princess. Please do not hesitate to call me if you need my assistance."

The chamber door closed behind her soundlessly. Hands clasped, head held high, the countenance of the perfect noblewoman; even though Tanya did not feel such. She was no chess player. She did not view things from a tactician's perspective.

She was a hunter, of the kind that attacked the prey head-on, and feasted on its blood and torment.

_The game begins. Now it begins for real._

...

The Chesterfell. A family with a long tradition in the printing industry. A wealth doubled by an immense success; whether be it dumb luck, sly business maneuvers or dirty tricks, that was completely irrelevant to him.

The Baron was a man of sixty, sharp-tongued and absolutely devoted to his addiction. He had made an appearance at the begining; sober and well-groomed greeting the guests. After that, Bartholomew Chesterfell had retreated with a bottle of whisky and a descreet wink thrown in the Earl's direction.

The Baroness Anastassia was an ambitious woman of fourty years of age with a thick Russian accent. Whereas everything belonged to her husband, she was the one who managed both the househould and the company. Except for organizing parties and festivities for no apparent reason every month other than appealing to the London elite, she was also known for her stern composture and iron determination.

Three offsprings had been the result of their union. The twenty-four-years-old twins Amelia and Fredric, the first wedded to a Frenchman and living in Paris; the second working alongside his mother, learning the secrets of the trade.

And then there was Tatianna Chesterfell, the mysterious girl on whom there were no written records of her birth. This, that letter and the already existing words of her shady connections to the Underworld, had all been enough to pique the Queen's interest and thus sending her ever faithful Watchdog to investigate on the case.

Futile. All of it. It was as if that girl did not even exist.

Now, a very bored and very irritated Ciel Phantomhive was standing in front of the towering and busty Anastassia Chesterfell, his always following shadow no more than a few steps away. As expected, she had approached him herself. The introduction had been icy. The look in her hazel eyes, harsh and severe.

"The news shocked me terribly."

She knew how to stall for time. He would give her some credit for that.

"That Angelina Dalles would pass away... It must've been very harsh on you, Earl Phantomhive."

"It was," cool and disinterested. "Let's not speak anymore of such deppressing matters. This is a party, isn't it Lady Chesterfell?"

Before she could respond to the blatant tone of his reply, a male servant approached them.

"Your daughter is here, Milady."

Had the Baroness figured it all out, or was she completely clueless?

"Why did you not..."

"Right behind you."

A fleeting look of surprise. The girl stepped to her right, finally giving the boy the chance to see her for the first time. Regaining her composture, the older woman sent the servant away with a wave of her hand.

"What took you so long?"

"I was getting ready."

The lie was pretty obvious. She did not look like someone who'd wasted much time on preparing for the evening. Next to her own mother, all heavy jewelry and blonde hair in an intricate hairstyle, she was like a breath of fresh air.

The Baroness scowled even more, critically eyeing her appearance. She did not seem to mind scolding her own daughter in front of a perfect stranger.

"Why is your hair down?"

"If you had hair half as pretty as mine, you'd wear it down too."

Crack.

The woman's eye was twitching. He decided this was the right moment and cleared his throat.

"Are you not going to introduce me, Lady Chesterfell?"

"...Of course. Earl Ciel Phantomhive, this is my youngest daughter, Tatia-"

"Tanya."

She interrupted indifferently, gazing over the vast array of food and drinks on the long table a few feet away from her.

The Baroness did not seem pleased. However she apparently decided not to make a remark on her manners, instead giving her a pointed look and tilting her head in his direction.

Sighing, the girl extended her arm, giving him a small, plastic smile.

"Nice to make your acquaitance."

Disinclined, he took it and brushed a kiss on the back of her hand. His reluctance must've been more obvious that he had thought, considering her next words.

"I am not too fond of this practise either. Who knows where that mouth of yours might've been, Earl."

Crack.

Twitch.

A silent snicker somewhere from behind him.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a reason the Russian woman felt inclined to treat her such.

"Ciel Phantomhive," deep breath from said woman, "is the head of the Funtom Company."

...

"The main manufactor of toys and candies in England."

"Oh."

What was suggested next, the boy had been both expecting and dreading a little.

"Why don't you invite my daughter for a waltz, young Earl?"

His palms were already sweating under the fabric of his gloves.

"You are roughly the same height, after all. It won't be uncomfortable for either of you."

Indeed, she probably was no more than two inches taller than him. A pretty doll, all curves and pale complexion and graceful posture; however these were eclipsed in comparison to her cold indifference and bitter temper, which were enough to keep away anyone, even those who would be smitten with her beauty.

The Earl was promptly ignoring the fact that the previous thoughts struck closer to home than necessary.

"Why ever not."

She suddenly sounded amused. Why did she sound amused? He had been careful to keep a neutral expression. No one would've been able to notice his nervousness regarding that hellish activity.

Well, no one except Sebastian. But that was a different case altogether.

"Come on, invite me. I would be honored."

The derision was so plain that he was refraining himself from insulting her directly and ruining everything. So, keeping in mind the reason he was there in first place, Ciel bowed elegantly, ever the gentleman.

"The honor would be mine, Lady Tatianna."

She openly glared at him.

He smirked at her.

Accepting his offered hand and letting him lead her to the dance floor, Tanya thought that maybe she should step on his feet countless times. Enough to break them.

The Baroness apparently deemed that her role was fulfilled, because she left who knows where. Good. These two days she had had enough of the witch to last her for the whole week.

Both took the customary position of that particular dance, and started moving their feet according to the music. Ciel had thought of using this opportunity to converse and try to get something out of her. However, what he did instead was trying not to make a complete fool of himself. The insolent girl was actually good, moving efortlessly with ease and fluidity. Next to her he looked like a clumsy, wooden puppet.

"Tell me Earl," she was clearly having the time of her life, "is this your own, personal style? The 'Staggering Waltz', perhaps?"

It was like talking to a second Sebastian. Ciel looked at her annoyed and weary, deciding that it was time to make a move now that no one was hearing them.

No one was hearing them, but sure everyone was looking at them. Their interactions made an excellent topic for gossip. And people loved talking.

"Do not taunt me. I have no reason to endure such childish behaviour. I am not here for this."

So much arrogance. Tanya felt he was in need of a good spanking. With a whip.

"Oh, why are you here then, o' mighty and presumptuos pirate chihuahua?"

What-

"Let's drop all the pretenses. What is it that you really want?"

Still dancing, they locked eyes with each other. A silent challenge.

...

"So you are this straightforward."

Sneer.

"Good. This façade was becoming tiresome."

"About which of them are you speaking, Earl? The one where you pretend to be a mere nobleman accepting a party invitation..."

She moved closer to him, managing to not let him trip.

"...Or the one where you act as if you were delving in our family's activities?"

...

"Clever," he admitted.

_Even so, it won't be enough to save you._

She snorted. "Please. Why would the Queen be interested in a harmless company that distributes Bibles and children's book?"

"And yet you sent that invitation. There is a fine line between bravery and stupidity."

The thought of throwing him to the far end of the main hall crossed her mind for a second, but she decided to ignore it. Tanya was just expecting the right moment. The Earl had no idea of how many façades there actually were. She would need to leave quickly after exposing herself and call Luke immediately.

Before that beast was ordered to intervene.

"That wasn't me. The harpy is so full of herself that she still believes she has the upper hand in this situation."

He assumed the 'harpy' must've been the Baroness. Mother and daughter did not have qualms about expressing their loathing of each other, as it seemed.

"Not that it mattered how many times I told her it was impossible that the Queen's lapdog would have left enough clues to trace them back to him, unless it was done on purpose. Besides... Now that I met you, I know that it is highly improbable of you making an accidental mistake. Not with someone like him by your side."

The last thing that Ciel Phantomhive had thought of hearing from her lips. Said with the tone one discussed something irreversible; spilled water and dead people.

"Sold your soul, little Earl?"

Her timing had been perfect. Right in that right moment, the music stopped.

"Be careful of whom you mingle with. Your infernal alliance may be of covenant, but mine is of flesh and blood."

A curtsy. That polite smile again.

"If you'll excuse me. I have something I need to attend to."

She left before he had the chance to reply; disappearing like smoke in the midst of the pushing bodies, leaving him standing there, perplexed and absolutely livid.

...

"Sebastian."

...

The thin-soled slippers made no noise as Tanya moved rapidly in the candlelighted corridors, heading towards the desolated western wing of the building. Her hands were trembling. She had kept her coolness for too long. Now that she was finally alone, maybe she could allow herself to panic, even if it was just for a little while.

In the exact moment she had entered the main hall, an overwhelming dark presence had invaded all her senses; leaving her shocked, chastising herself for not being careful and sensing it before. No matter how much cosmetics she's used to hide the marks on her skin, nothing could escape its eye.

Tanya had been hoping not to attract unecessary attention; however after being approached by one of the servants currently taking care of the banquet and being shown where her mother was waiting for her along with their special guest, her heart had stopped.

The demon was there. And he had been looking straight at her, with one of the most eerie smiles she'd ever witnessed. It did not matter that he was collared. That made him no less dangerous.

Tanya had been uncomfortable the whole time. His unsettling red gaze had never left her; wandering up and down her body, making her feel as if he were running his own fingers along her bare skin.

A shiver. Cold sweat. The taste of vomit in her mouth.

It was not the demon that made her want to run as far away as possible; his raw power, the unspoken promise of worse things than death. She was not weary of the monster. She was weary of him.

And she did not even know why.

Silent footsteps.

Despite her left ear, she could still discern them faintly.

Tanya finally reached her destination. The spacious hallway was completely deserted, save for few decorations in the otherwise empty walls. There shadows encompassed everything, but this did not pose as a problem for her.

He was close.

Too close.

_Almost there._

In a quick move she reached and grabbed one of the swords hanging inches away from her. It did not matter that it was just ornamental; in her hands it would suffice for what she had in mind.

Swords were not her weapon of choice, after all. If only Luke had let her hide a dagger or knife somewhere under the dress.

The demon merely tilted his head; the thrown object flying past him and crashing one of the huge windows, tearing down the dark curtains and shattering the glass. Moonlight flooded the empty space, casting an otherwordly glow on his silhouette.

The strength used would have been enough to kill a person. Tanya knew that from experience. The noise would not be heard by anybody, except one.

_Be quick, Luke._

"Impressive."

His voice was all low and steady, tone polite and deceiving.

"For an innocuous, brainless little mutt as you."

...

The demon caught the second sword this time. He frowned lightly at the droplets of blood staining his pristine gloves.

"Listen here, you insignificant giant insect," she recovered from the astonishment, previous distress momentarily forgotten. "This is my house and I will not abide such offense, whether be it from your or your arrogant, stupid meal."

Bone-chilling stare.

He tossed the sword asside, walking towards her in slow, deliberate steps. The echo of the shards of glass under his shoes and the palpitating beating of her heart were the only noises in the hallway.

The devil suddenly bowed down to her eye level, so close that his breath brushed her lips. Tanya finally understood that what he was able to incite in her was fear. She had not been afraid for a long time. She had forgotten how dreadful that particular feeling was; the weakness and helplessness, wanting to be a coward and escape to save yourself.

Tanya was not a coward. And she hated him for making her feel as such.

Cold smile.

"Maybe you will understand who the insignificant insect is, after I've crushed you like a cockcroach."

An arm shot in the space between them.

"Step away from her."

An implied threat. Pink eyes glowing dangerously in slits.

"Sebastian!"

The boy was panting harshly, hands on his knees, trying to gain his breath. He probably had been looking for them, running in their direction after hearing the commotion from before. Surely he'd wanted to keep in check the damage done by his own servant.

Said servant was in a second next to his master, as the Earl righted himself in a more dignified stance.

Tanya felt a gloved hand on her cheek. She looked up at now indigo blue eyes.

"Are you all right? He did not hurt you, did he?"

She didn't answer, turning to Ciel Phantomhive and his butler. Luke stood behind her, his expression transforming from concern to something unreadable.

"If you do not keep him on a shorter leash-"

"I have no intention on taking advice from you on how to handle my contract," he interrupted her. "I do not want to hear anything on this anymore, Tatianna Chesterfell. Am I making myself clear?"

"If you are unable to speak of it, then you should had not bargained in first place."

...

"You know nothing."

"And I do not wish to know. Believe it or not, no one cares about your scars more than you. Now, tell me what the hell do you want from me, before I kick both of your asses out of the window."

Boy and butler looked at each other.

Ciel reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, taking out a wrinkled paper. He showed it at her.

A letter drenched in blood.

She could still smell the now dried metallic tang of the thick liquid.

"A week ago this was sent to the Queen. After a quick examination of the paper and ink, it was deduced that they both pertained to the Chesterfell Company. None of the handwritings of any of your family members corresponded to it. The only one whom we had no written correspondence of, was you. Therefore that made you the first suspect. After further investigation did not bring results, the speculations could only increase."

Her eyebrows arched.

"That is because I've kept a low profile. I don't see why that would make me a criminal."

Sigh.

"Really. If you want to accuse me, then do it for the right reasons."

Questioning look.

"Can I see that letter?"

Ciel was hesitating. However, it wasn't as if she would snatch it and run away. Even though he did not doubt she had it in her. So he extended his hand, but before Tanya could take it, Luke stopped her, clearing his throat.

"It would be wise not to touch it without taking off your glove, my princess."

She looked at him with wide eyes.

_Are you freaking serious, you idiot?_

He lowered his head in a desperate manner; palms pressed against each other

"Please, if you get them dirtied again I will have to listen to your mother's tirade. And she was clear that if she would have to buy another pair of ballroom gloves for you..."

Wordlessly, she slipped both of them off. Ciel Phantomhive looked surprized at the sight of the strangely shaped designs that swirled on her bare forearms; patternless black marks dancing on fair skin. Were those... Tattoos?

Tanya took the letter unfazed and unfolded it. She glanced at the Earl, amusement glittering in her eyes.

"Don't ask. I won't asnwer you. It is nothing that your pet can't fill you in later."

A sarcastic tug of his lips. A dispassionate stare from her part.

Ignoring him, she read the words written in the macabre letter. And then blinked.

Once.

Twice.

"What the-"

"What is it, my princess?"

Luke bowed to read what the letter said. Butler and mistress apparently did not have any personal space regarding each other, Ciel noted casually; the two of them stood cheek-to-cheek, both staring at the letter flabbergasted. Maybe the rumours about them were true. Nevertheless, it was completely unimportant.

"So?"

Taping his foot impatiently.

"This is my handwriting."

Now it was his turn to be dumbfounded.

"And you admit it?"

Instead of answering him she read the words aloud, her soft voice akin to dreams and lullabies.

"I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night, taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down. The dark descent, and up to reascend..."

"What does this mean, my princess?"

"It's from John Milton's 'Paradise Lost'," Tanya felt puzzled.

"Explain yourself."

Deep breath.

"I have nothing to explain. Whoever did this has perfected my own handwriting, or is copying it from someplace."

"And you expect me to believe you?"

Harsh glare.

"I couldn't care less of your opinion, you Lilliputian cyclops. This is personal. Not everything revolves around the Queen and her precious little kingdom."

"The Queen-"

"Has no more hold on me that Heaven does."

Her eyes closed.

_Feign. Be civil. Maybe you can gain something of it._

"Thank you, Earl Phantomhive."

_Smile._

"I am really grateful that you informed me of this. Do not worry about it anymore, I will see to this case myself and make sure that it won't be repeated."

They both stared down each other for a long time.

"All right, Lady Tatianna."

Finally, Ciel decided to relent.

Decided pretending to relent.

"But please, be thorough. I would not like it if I'd have to interfere and interact with you again. Ah," he stopped, turning his head to smirk at her. "By the way, consider this a favor."

Tanya narrowed her eyes.

"A favor I intend to recollect tenfold."

Boy and demon retreated into the darkness, footsteps fading away quietly.

Suddenly two strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders.

"What did that brute do to you?"

She frowned. "I told you, nothing. Like I'd ever let him."

"It is not that, and you know it. You are strong. But not strong enough yet. Tell me, were you afraid of him?"

Tanya averted her gaze.

"Good. You should be," his hands slid down, clasping hers. "I am the most pathetic excuse for a demon there is. Even you... Even you are far more one than I will ever be."

"...I always were."

...

"Check every single room of the entire manor. The party is not yet finished, so everyone is busy. The immitator is someone that resides here. Find him or her, and take them to the cellar. I will be at my father's."

A nod. Complete loyalty and devotion. Even if she asked for the sky and the stars.

"In this instant, my princess."

He was gone before she could blink.

Tanya glanced over at the aftermath of her meeting with their 'special' guest. She should ask Luke to repair the window too, unless the Red Queen would have a heart attack. Not that Tanya would mind it.

The Red Queen. She liked it. Anastassia really had a lot in common with the crazy character of Lewis Carroll's children books.

She put both her gloves back on, lest she meet anybody during her way.

The moon was full that night.

She was starting to like the moon less now.

...

"I daresay you did not mean that, young master?"

"Of course not. The eradication of anything that may harm the Queen and her reign is my duty. Whatever crosses my path posing as a threat, will be destroyed mercilessly."

"Then, do you consider her as such?"

"It is difficult not to."

"Because of her words, or because of her nature?"

"If she is not human, what is she?"

...

"She is marked as of the Lineage of Hell."

An eyebrow rose. A silent demand for explanation.

"Halfbreed. Part human, part demon, my Lord."

...

Knock.

"Come on in!"

A loud, drunken yell.

She closed the wooden door behind her, the smell of alcohol stinging her nose. Her father was sitting in the armchair behind his desk; already on the fifth bottle of whisky, as she could see from the other empty

four standing erect in front of her like miniature soldiers.

"Ooh, look who decided to pay a visit. Did you remember that I am not dead yet, sunshine?"

"I doubt there is anything that can kill you."

Toothy grin.

"Why don't you sit down and have a drink."

She eyed the offered bottle a little repulsed.

It was difficult not to, after seeing the effects of the prolonged consumption of alcohol on his body. The healthy and broad-shouldered man of her childhood memories was now skinny and willowy. Red hair and beard streaked with grease and innumerous strands of silver; his green eyes, lifeless and bleary.

"You know I only drink on occassions."

"Since when being deppressed to death is an occassion?"

"...Point taken. Nonetheless, I'm still not drinking."

He dismissed her words with an awkward wave of his hand.

"So, how did it go with the little Earl? From your face, I presume it was heaps of fun."

"Don't remind me."

"What did he want?"

"There is someone replicating my handwriting and sending bloodied letters to the Queen quoting John Milton. I just dispatched Luke to find out who that person is."

The Baron stared at her.

"Never a dull moment with you, huh?"

Rap.

"Don't come in if you're my wife!"

A head of unruly ebony hair showed itself in the threshold.

"Uuh, the plushy fiend from hell!"

Luke opened and closed his mouth comically at being insulted by the Baron, not knowing how to reply to that. Tanya rolled her eyes.

"What did you find out?"

He cleared his throat.

"The curprit is waiting for you, my princess."

Pleased expression. Very, very wrong considering the context.

Bartholomew winced.

"I wouldn't want to be in that poor bastard's place right now," taking a sip. "You're bad enough to cross paths with in good days, sunshine."

Sharp look.

"Take care, dad. Have a good night."

He raised the bottle in her direction. Of course he was going to. He was going to have an excellent night.

...

The same servant from the party was now bloodied and bruised, tied tightly to one of the damp pillars of the basement. One of his eyes was completely swollen; his legs both broken, considering their strange angle.

Luke might have been the mildest example of a monster, but he still was one.

"Henry Miller."

Her memory had always been good. She knew who every single maid and valet and gardener of the manor were.

"Though that isn't your real name."

Everything was as nondescript as possible. Generic name, brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin, average height. He supposedly had been working in one of the warehouses of the city before being employed by her brother with excellent references.

All falsified.

Luke handed her a folder of sorts. Flipping the pages she saw it contained several papers custom made from their company, printed pages with notes and instructions and lastly, a letter written by her; the one he had used to create a replica of her handwriting.

Lump in her throat.

_Not this one._

"Who do you work for?"

...

"You will not answer me?"

Hateful glare. Spit trickling down his chin.

"Bitch."

Nonchalant. "I've been called worse."

She reached into the pocket of his pants, fishing for the pack of cigarettes that pressed against the fabric. Lighting one up using the flame of a candle, she took a long drag; relishing in the feel of smoke in her mouth.

"So you aren't going to speak?"

...

"You know that you are disposable, don't you?"

"...I am never going to betray my leader."

"Ah, your leader. So it's a man. A stupid one from the looks of it."

"Don't you dare talk ill of him, you-"

"Considering the citations he's chosing from the books, he has a God complex and thinks he can bring a change to the world."

Click of tongue.

"And he also has a queue of followers, all sacrificial lambs but of course you are all too dumb to see that."

_I do not seek to destroy..._

"Your leader..."

_...unless it helps in achieving my goal..._

"...must not forget..."

_...I will burn everything down to ashes._

"...that gods fall too."

Ruthless.

She put the cigarette out by pressing the ignited end on his good eye.

The scream that followed would have been enough to raise the dead and make stone weep.

Tanya was harder than stone.

Folder in hand, she headed towards the stairs.

"Eat his soul."

An order.

"And dispose of the body."

"...As you wish, my princess."

No sounds came anymore from the cellar. Not even muffled ones.

Tiredly, she slid against the corridor wall collapsing on the floor; not caring in the least for dirtying her dress. The old hag's arguments suddenly seemed meaningless. The letter, that letter, it was too heavy for her to carry.

Luke emerged from the basement no more than after a few minutes, straightening his coat and putting his gloves back on.

"That was quick," she observed.

"I made the flames disintegrate the tissue faster this time, my princess. And please-"

"I'm too tired for your reprimands on how expensive this cloth is or how inappropriate for a lady-"

"No, I was actually going to ask you to eat something. You skipped lunch."

Blink.

...

"You think it's him, don't you?"

...

"Bring me some of the refreshments that were served in the banquet. Those sandwiches looked tasty."

"...Right now, my princess."

After he retreated, she opened the file, eyes scanning quickly every page.

Stop.

Smile.

Luck surely liked her.

_A favor, you said?_

When he'd told her he would leave it to her, he had been lying.

She had been not.

_You are going to regret it._

...

**Author note:** Um... Is this too long? It was 20 pages of Word...

There are a lot of hints and hidden meanings that will be revealed in latter chapters. I hope this isn't too confusing.

And now some things I'd like to clarify:

-The title of the chapter is actually a line from the Bible, Matthew 24:8 ; 'And all these are the beginning of sorrows.'

-In the Victorian period it was considered improper leaving your hair down, unless it was in the privacy of your own bedroom.

-Respectable women of this era would use very little makeup in natural shades, or not wear at all. Heavy and pronounced tones were for actresses and prostitutes; people tended to consider them the same. The creamy paste that I have mentioned is probably pearl powder, which provided a silky white and lustruous cosmetic powder; a version of the foundation we have these days. Also, a pale complexion was highly favored, because it was trademark of the privileged class; contrasting to the rough and tanned skin of the lower classes.

-'There is a fine line between bravery and stupidy.' is actually a reference from Veronica Roth's 'Divergent'. This is the exact quotation: 'The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy."

Thanks to those who read, who favorited and who reviewed.

I'd also like to thank in advance those who will do the same for this chapter. Knowing that people actually read this gives me the determination and desire to continue writing it.


	3. Chapter 2: Red sky in the pond

**Disclaimer**: Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso.

**Chapter 2:**

**Red sky in the pond**

The envelope felt like sandpaper to her cold hands. Mind numb, staring emotionless at the blank surface. It had been a torment replacing the ripped one without giving in to temptation; finally reading the letter that haunted her.

She did not know what was written in there.

It had been composed in one of the darkest hours of her life. She remembered scribbling down furiously all the pain, tears and guilt; the memory blurry through the haze of alcohol and substances she did not want to think about. Other than that, no recollection whatsoever.

It was better that way.

Tanya opened the drawer, setting the letter next to a black feather and a small, wooden chest which contents she didn't feel like looking at that day. Nor any other day. She generally pretended they did not even exist.

However someone had seen them. Someone had been through her belongings, through everything she had carefully kept away from her own self.

And he had paid the price dearly.

"Come in."

He needn't knock.

Entering her chambers, breakfast tray in hand and radiant smile on his face; Luke's presence was so achingly familiar that she could recognize it anytime. It was not something unusual to see him in high spirits in the morning, when it was still early for his mood to be ruined.

Tanya couldn't keep herself from smiling too, at the thought that she was just about to do so.

"Luke?"

Setting the tray on a small table, he turned to beam at her.

"Yes, my princess?"

"I want you to go in Scotland and stay there till nightfall."

The birds stopped chirping outside the window.

...

Small voice.

"Wh-Why?"

"Because I said so."

...

"It is an order, you know."

No loopholes. It was safer than making him stay in the manor. He may have not been the brightest, but the number of times he had danced his way around one of her orders made her think twice whenever she asked something of him that he would not approve.

And she was sure as hell he wouldn't agree on this.

"If you are sending me away to do something irresposible-"

It wouldn't be the first time.

"Don't worry," she interrupted. "I will explain everything later. Consider this... A day off I'm giving you. For your hard work."

"But-"

"I promise," solemn, "that when you get back from your little vacation, all my limbs will be intact. And to make it up to you, I will try to tolerate that barbaric ball of fur you keep in your room."

That pest's name should've been Mad Mangler instead of Toto. It always tried to claw her eyes out anytime Tanya was into reaching distance. She could swear the cat's eyes were full of the most deep and heartfelt loathing when looking at her.

Tanya fantasized often of using it as a moving target for practise. Or dropping it in a tank full of sharks. Or-

"The fact that you're trying to be nice only proves further that I will disapprove of whatever you are going to do."

Frown.

"I'm not trying to be nice. I am nice. I am kindness incarnated," she turned her back at him. "Now leave before I get angry and break your favorite teaset."

She heard him choke for air at the threat.

He knew it was a battle lost from the start.

"I know it's impossible to change your mind. So... Whatever it is," Luke said softly, "that you plan to do, I beg you, my princess. Be careful."

Tanya found herself glaring at the door for a good five minutes after his departure.

She did not know which bothered her the most; the fact that he thought he could make her feel bad for this, or that it actually worked.

_Cunning bastard._

Putting on cape and gloves, she glanced at the breakfast tray.

Grimace.

The cook who was in charge of her meals seemed to be unable to prepare anything besides pumpkins. Pumpkin pie, chicken with pumpkin sauce, pumpkin with pumpkin filling. Even now on her plate there was a pumpkin omelet; the drinking glass filled with an orange-colored thick liquid.

Pumpkin juice.

Shudder.

If only that pumpkin freak would let Luke get close to the kitchen. It didn't help that she thought he was possessed because he hadn't changed at all during these years.

Stomach growling, she took the papers she had set aside and put them inside of a reticule.

Walking down the stairs, Tanya was wary of encountering any undesirable persons before leaving. She was already going to have to deal with quite an unpleasant matter. Her own family adding to it would've not been appreciated.

No such luck.

She felt him before she heard him.

"Sneaking out of your own house?"

Fredric was leaning against one of the walls, all formal attire and golden hair carefully slicked back; green gaze glittering in the mid-November sunlight.

"And you? Being a good minion and spying on me?"

Her brother's voice used to be the one she fell asleep to, retelling bedtime stories and fairy tales the Baroness never bothered with when it came to her. He would scare the snobby bullies away and teach her dancing and French better than the strict tutors that were always hired.

A miniature ice statue. But she still had loved him.

It had started with him working in the company along the Baroness, and it had ended when he'd told her it wasn't his mother's fault.

Then, disappointment. Now, only resentment.

"Mother would like to know..."

Mother this, mother that...

"...how you fared yesterday with her guest. You disappeared in the middle of the party."

Impassive. Both of them.

"Oh, great. He was absolutely horrified from her manipulative strategies. He pleaded for mercy and forgiveness, and vowed to never put his ugly nose in her highness' business again."

...

"Mother fired two maids for the broken window in the west wing."

Stop.

She had completely forgotten about that. How much could a damn letter mess with her mind?

"And?"

Nonetheless, Tanya didn't care at all.

"Both were widows with mouths to feed."

Sympathy was an alien concept to her.

Remorse was different. Remorse she'd had enough. But to feel responsible for such a petty casualty...

Never.

"This affects me... How?" she crossed her arms. "Sometimes I wish I had those kind of problems."

"You're being cynical."

"Famine and poverty tend to look mediocre from one of my kind's point of view. If you were so sorry about them, why didn't you tell the truth? It would've earned you extra points with the hag's 'anti-Tanya' policy. Not that you need them."

"Your demonic nature doesn't justify the complete lack of humanity."

He wasn't even bored. Simply, blank.

"That is why I save it instead of being a saint."

The light pouring from the main entrance was blinding.

"Tanya."

Her head turned just barely in his direction.

"Do you think you will ever join me and mother for lunch?"

The heavy doors banged shut behind her.

Tanya brisked at the already waiting coach. Accepting the driver's help for the mere sake of appearances, she settled comfortably on the seat; thoughts cleared completely of her brother and Anastassia. Displeasing conversations were almost a daily recurrence in their family. Disregarding them came natural to her now.

Especially when she had more important matters at hand.

_'If you are sending me away to do something irresposible...'_

"Where would you like to go, Miss?"

Not irresposible.

"Phantomhive."

Just very, very stupid.

...

"What is this?!"

Incredulous. Apalled.

Those didn't even come close to describing him in that moment.

Everything was washed in red. The stones and the pebbles. The trunks of the leafless trees surrounding the lake.

Not a lake. An enormous hole in the ground, completely filled with blood.

Human blood.

Sebastian had confirmed this much at least a mile away before arriving.

"The Yard was informed at daybreak from residents of the area. According to them this has happened overnight. They insist the lake was normal the other day."

Officers Randall and Abberline had been the ones to receive them; the others gone, unable to stomach the gruesome stench.

"Her Majesty immediately requested for the case to be handled to you, Earl Phantomhive."

Handkierchief pressed to his nose, Ciel glanced at him out of the corner of his eye upon hearing the belittling tone.

"If you think you can resolve this by yourselves, be my guest then."

The sharp look he gave the Earl spoke volumes.

"I thought so."

"I can't believe how someone could do this," Abberline shook his head.

Arthur Randall could not reprimand him on his naiveness. The lurid view was almost surreal; a nightmare directly originated from the pits of hell.

"Your presence isn't necessary anymore. I will take it from here."

"Very well, then."

This would be tough. Even for the Evil Aristocrat. Not that Randall was preoccupied. It would be better if the Earl failed. It would be a good lesson to that boasting child's ego.

"Until next time."

Ciel waited for them to be out of earshot, before turning to the butler standing a few steps away.

"What did you find out?"

Sebastian had subtly picked something from the ground when the officers had been explaining the situation. The action hadn't gone unnoticed by the young Earl.

"It is the front page of a book, my Lord. More specifically, 'Paradise Lost'."

"Give it here."

The title was written in cursive; the year at the bottom showing it belonged to one of the earliest editions. It seemed like something a collector would own. Very old and almost falling apart.

Flipping it to the other side, Ciel read the words written in red ink. Whether it was really that or something else, he didn't want to know.

_'I will make blood run like water.'_

He reached into the pocket of his coat, taking out a paper and comparing them.

"...Let's make a visit to the Chesterfells."

...

Standing in front of the huge manor, some of her determination dispersed a bit along with the blowing wind. She suddenly wished it had taken longer to arrive there.

Tanya didn't know who was worse. Both grated on her nerves like few could. People were cautious of the small one; dangerous with his scheming ways and calculated moves. However, it was the tall one that made her throat dry. The chessmaster may move the pawns, but it were their lackeys who did the slaughter.

Fear she could conquer.

If she had done so before, there was no reason she couldn't do it now too.

Sensing someone right after passing through the gates, her fingers reached instictively for the dagger hidden inside of her sleeve. It wasn't a menacing feeling; nonetheless, she did not want to be caught by surprise in the lair of the villains. Who knew what tortures and machinations awaited hidden in there.

The gardener had paused in his steps; large doe eyes filled with awe, scissors still in hand. Tanya wondered if the Earl had a fetish for effeminate men.

As she opened her mouth to say something to him, either 'is that vile thing you call master here' or 'I know I'm gorgeous, but stop staring or I'll trim your lashes'; a piece of cloth flew right in her face.

"Oh my god! The young master's underwear!"

...

Tanya wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

"I am so sorry!" bowing clumsily, hands fisting the white garment. "Please, I beg your forgiveness! It was the wind and I wasn't fast enough and my glasses and I didn't know-"

"It's all right!"

Tanya stopped the maid's ranting with a shout.

"It's all right," repeating, calmer this time.

"Hey, Maylene! Finni!" distinct American accent. "What's with all this ruckus?"

The apron-donning man approached them, unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Um, hello Miss," suspisciously. "What do you want?"

"Bard! Do not speak so disrespectfully! Please Milady, excuse him!"

"It's all right."

Tanya never thought she would meet someone to make her repeat herself thrice.

Grin.

"I actually enjoy very much the forthright manners Americans have. Us British are too archaic."

"Really? I never thought of hearing this from an English noblewoman."

"We're too obsessed with etiquette and stuck-up to say anything, that's why. Tell me, is the Earl here?"

She didn't need them to answer. Wherever the boy was, the demon would follow. No dark presence had made itself noticed.

"Oh, the young master left early in the morning with Mister Sebastian," the maid confirmed.

"Did he say when he'll be back?"

"No, Milady. I'm sorry. Would you like to wait for him inside of the mansion?"

Tanya thought the only reason they were inviting her in was for the previous offence. The people working for the Queen's Watchdog couldn't be that careless.

She did not like waiting. However having sent Luke away meant nothing to do for the better part of the day. Besides, the vipers' faces when they'd see her in their sanctuary would be priceless.

"Yeah, Miss, stay and chat with us. Tanaka can prepare you tea or something. What do you say, eh Finni? Hey! Where did he go?"

Maylene looked taken aback. "I thought he was still here..."

Apparently her sight was worse than a mole's.

"Ah, whatever. So? What do you say, Miss?"

"Call me Tanya."

...

"What did you think of New York?"

Sitting on the counter in the kitchen, smoking and talking with the servants of the Phantomhive, Tanya was pleased she didn't leave. They may have been the worst staff in the world according to their own words, but she still found them quite interesting. Gathering small clues from the things they'd say, she understood they hadn't had it easy; they kept the Earl in high regards, almost like a savior, and had a profound respect for the capable butler.

When the conversation started turning into appraisal for those two, she quickly changed topics.

Baldroy was taking drags from his own cigarette. Maylene stood close to them, smiling and occasionally giving her opinion. Finni was on the counter with her; red roses gathered in a bouquet in his hands. Tanaka merrily sipped tea somewhere in the background, a characteristic 'Ho, ho, ho' being heard now and then.

"That it was amazing. Completely different from here."

"I agree, kiddo."

Somewhere along the conversation he'd started calling her like that. She didn't mind.

"You said you've seen almost all of it, even the slums. Do you have a friend or something from there?"

"...I did."

"Is that so? What's his name? Maybe I know him."

...

When she finally spoke again, her voice had lowered an octave.

"Rudy. Rudy Dragonborn."

Bard seemed to think that over.

"Strange surname... Sounds made up... Nope, never heard of him."

Finnian and Tanaka were the only ones who seemed to realize her change in demeanor.

"Hey, pretty Miss!"

Cheery voice. The blonde boy was almost bouncing in front of her.

"You didn't t-"

"What is happening here?"

Instant quietness.

The devil had finally arrived.

The servants positioned themselves in a straight line, heads humbly downcast. Tanya did not move an inch; part defiant, part petrified. When his eyes settled on her, she stopped even breathing.

"What are you doing here?"

Bard was faster than her. "You see Sebastian, Tanya here came to meet the young master. Since he wasn't present at the moment, we showed our hospitality and invited her inside."

...

"Are those... Roses from the garden?"

Finnian was oblivious.

"Oh yes, Mister Sebastian! I brought the Miss flowers! They aren't as beautiful as her-"

"From the garden?!"

His excitement withered.

Exasperation.

"You three... Incompetent... Fools. Finish your chores in this instant!"

"Yes, sir!"

The servants scattered for a moment before bursting out from the door.

"Tanaka... Please, take it easier."

"Ho, ho, ho."

After the elder Japanese left, they were finally alone.

Ominous ambience.

"You are suicidal, aren't you?"

...

Malicious smile.

"Be cautious. I may be tempted to... satisfy your desire."

The implication was sickening.

She blew smoke in his face.

"I am still a guest. Or are you forgetting your precious aesthetics?"

Tanya hopped down from the counter, putting some distance between them. Flicking the cigarette in a bin, she grabbed her things and smoothed the dark skirts of her dress down. A nervous gesture; pulling it off without trembling.

She was still waiting for him to roast her alive for the misdeed.

"There is something I have to discuss with the Evil Lord."

That creepy smile again. Enigmatic enough to put La Gioconda to shame.

"Certainly. Please, follow me."

He lead her out of the room, all the while being his polite and well-mannered self. It wasn't difficult to see why the other servants admired him. He was the embodiment of the perfect butler; handsome and devoted and able to do anything. She did not doubt he was proud of this.

"Actually, the young master has something he wishes to discuss with you as well."

He stopped abruptly, causing her to bump into him. Tanya jerked involuntary, as if she were burned.

"What, does he want hairstyling tips?"

Opening the doors, he motioned for her to go inside. A very surprised, and very sullen Ciel Phantomhive was standing behind his desk, probably feeling very important.

"Hello, little Earl."

"You? What are-"

"Pardon the interruption, young master," moving to stand next to him. "Apparently the Miss has been here this whole time, being entertained by the rest of the staff."

He was immediately all businesslike. An eyebrow rose in mild curiosity.

"You came here by yourself?"

"Luke is my butler," she shrugged, picking one of the small pastries from the plate on his desk. "Not my babysitter. Mm... Bard made himself sound like he could incinerate even water. This is amazin-"

"In fact, I prepared them."

...

"Are they to your liking, my... Lady?"

He made that sound so... Wrong.

She dropped the food. "I was going to say amazingly horrid."

"Of course you were."

Hateful glare. A quirk of his lips.

Ciel righted himself, irritated. What were these two idiots doing, flirting? He had no time to waste.

"Which is the reason of your visit?"

"I came to tell you that we found who was sending those letters and took good care of him."

"And that would be?"

"We became best friends forever and ate cupcakes all night long under the starry skies."

...

"I think the answer was pretty obvious to that question."

"You killed him?"

"I tortured him," looking curiously at a portrait of Vincent Phantomhive. "Luke killed him afterwards. Your father?"

"Yes. Don't digress. I assume you learnt the name of the person who is trying to incriminate you?"

"No. He wouldn't talk, so he heroically died for the 'cause'. You still think it was me who wrote that, don't you?"

Ciel was considering how much would be appropriate telling her.

"This morning the Scotland Yard notified me of a peculiar case. A lake and its surrounding zone, four miles in the southeast, was completely filled with human blood. In the scene we found a page torn from a 'Paradise Lost' copy that seemed like the owner of a book printing company would possess, with a very interesting message. The handwritting was yours, of course. I compared it with a copy of the letter sent to the Queen."

So he had made his butler create a sample of her handwritting. Tanya didn't know whether to congratulate him on his ingeniousness, or pound his head repeatedly against the nearest wall. Just for the fun of it.

"I wanted to talk to you, so we dropped by your house. However the only one there was the Baron, who collapsed drunk on the floor after telling me that you probably were someplace, inflicting agony and misery to the world."

Nice to know her father always appreciated her.

"I assume you saw the folder, then."

...

"I know you have searched my room, little Earl. It was the perfect opportunity. I would've done the same."

Anger. She had to keep it in check, if she wanted to get alive out of there.

"Nevertheless, if I see that your dirty paws have been in my undergarments drawer..."

"None of that!"

The boy blushed, straightening his collar. Sebastian snickered at his embarrasement.

"Considering the contents of the file and the clear instructions, it was obvious that you had nothing to do with it."

"Oh, thank goodness. I'd cry into my pillow every night if you did not believe in my innocence."

Dryly. "If I did not believe in your innocence, the pillow would be that of your coffin."

Tanya was unimpressed at his threat.

"I am half-demon, little Earl. It is not easy getting rid of us."

Yet, she was nowhere strong enough to defeat a full demon. The only halfbreed she knew that could... Had died doing so.

"I am not interested in your nature or heritage. What I would like to know is why you disposed of that man without getting a straight answer out of him. Unless you have, but are reluctant to tell me."

"When I said this was personal, I meant it."

"Not if it goes against the purpose of the Phantomhive family's existence."

"Again with that. Believe me, who is doing this, is definitely not interested in the Kingdom."

"Then why was that letter sent to the Queen?"

"To attract your attention, perhaps?"

Tanya reached into her handbag, taking out the papers inside of it.

"What are those?"

Sarcastically. "You said you were doing me a favor. That is why I came here, to repay my debt. If I knew you'd rummage and see for yourself, I wouldn't have bothered."

She held them out.

"You must have noticed the informations regarded only the demons. Concretely, the one I wanted to bring you, has your name on it. Not as the Earl or lapdog or whatever, but as his master."

Sebastian tilted his head at her. Ciel grabbed the papers, skimming through the lines.

"I saw they didn't know much about either of you."

"...Indeed."

His single eye closed in concentration.

"If I may, young master..."

Two heads turned up at him simultaneously.

"I would not worry."

"An unknown person fills an entire lake with blood and you tell me not to worry?"

"Of course he doesn't worry. He sees himself practically invincible. No matter who may be chasing him down."

_Arrogant jerk._

"Except for the fact that I am practically invincible..."

Tanya tried very hard not to make a face at him.

"...Revolutionaries are merely nuisances. Nothing more."

So he had realized it too, hadn't he?

"The allusion to the poem. The citations chosen were of chaos and rebellion. He wants to change everything we know to some strange, visionary promised land. Revolutionaries are a nuisance. Revolutionaries with the power to do something..." Tanya trailed off. "Consider sharing this with you as a recompense for telling me of this morning's occurrencies, little Earl. If you hadn't, I'd never know. My father would not even remember your two stupid faces lurking around."

"You know him personally. Why is he involving you?"

"I don't know who is behind it."

"But you do have a firm supposition."

Not even a question.

"And I want you to tell me now."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Do not order me. I am not your slave like he is."

The demon didn't look particularly pleased by the epithet.

"Oh, yes, I forgot," Ciel sneered. "You too are contracted to one of them, despite being a mongrel yourself. What kind of services does he offer you, specifically?"

Unbelieving.

Tanya thought she maybe did not hear him right.

Judging by the plain amusement in the butler's face, she had.

"The same services that your demon offers you. With the difference that my case doesn't make him a pedophile."

...

Boiling rage.

"I assume you cannot even bathe yourself. I ponder how much you enjoy it when he washes yo-"

"Sebastian! Get her out of my sight!"

"Don't touch me."

A calm warning. His hand stopped in midair.

"I hope this is the last time we meet each other, Earl Phantomhive. Do not interfere anymore," her expression was icy. "And keep the reticule. It matches your boots."

...

Her steps were light and fast; not too fast as to give the impression she was fleeing from there. Just as she reached the massive stairs, he was behind her in a matter of seconds.

"Did he send you to make sure every last shred of my dignity was annihilated?"

"You think you're funny."

Sparkling smile.

"I think I'm adorable."

A hand shot on the banister, effectively stopping her. Sebastian lowered himself to her eye level. His proximity was disturbing.

"You are. Not enough to compesate for all the idiocies you utter, though."

By the end of the sentence, his tone had become deadly.

Tanya was itching to push him down the stairs. She would probably do it, if she wasn't sure he'd first break both of her arms.

Before she could reply, an ear-piercing scream filled the air.

"What is it now?"

Relieved, Tanya mentally thanked the household staff.

"Mister Sebastian! Maylene was cleaning the library and the shelves fell on her!"

Frustration. "You, come with me."

He grasped her elbow without waiting for a response and dragged her along. In a few quick strives, they both were at the mansion entrance. Tanya pulled forcefully, making him release his grip.

"Do that again and I will carve your eyes out."

The light frown disappeared quickly.

"Then how would I prepare the delicacies my Lady fancies enough to act like a common thief?"

She thought she had been stealthy.

"Tell me Sebastian..." his name tasted like vinegar to her tongue. "How does it feel like being named after a dog?"

He scowled. "How can you possibly know that?"

"...Be a good puppy and go see what the maid needs, will you?"

She thought he was letting her get away with too much. There must've been a catch she was missing. Unless he was plotting on getting her later.

That thought was definitely not welcome.

"Ah, and please do not enter the manor when the young master is not present. I would not appreciate a filthy crossbreed staining anything. Have a good day."

He readily shut the door in her face.

...

Taking a bite from the food she had hid in a pocket, she walked away from the building, mentally swearing in every language she knew. Stopping by the fountain, Tanya whirled and catched the Earl's silhouette from the upper floor.

_This is far from over._

"She knows something."

Ciel drew the curtain hastily. Giving that girl another reason to ridicule him was out of the cards. If she called him 'Peeping Tom', he was going to fire a gun at her.

"Really, young master. What made you think that?"

Disdain.

"If you intend to scorn me, I would suggest busying your time with your duties."

"...Whatever my Lord says."

_Until time has come..._

_For your soul to be mine._

...

"You're fuming."

Luke had stormed in upon the last ray had vanished, demanding that she tell him everything; going ballistic after smelling the scents of the Earl and his butler inside of her bedroom. He had controlled her if she really had all of her limbs intact, and then had proceeded to pace in circles and mutter obscenities to himself. Tanya was still waiting for the lecture and reprimands.

"Fuming? I could strangle you to death right now! The contract be cursed!"

"I have heard that forsaking a contract has grave repercussions," she said, faking her seriousness.

"Had I known you would be so reckless, I would have chained you in a fortress and then thrown the key in the ocean!"

She stood on her tiptoes and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Listen, Luke. Aside from the common knowledge that I can break chains," Tanya hurried before he carried on with his threat, "I am fine. Safe and sound. And... I am now sure of who is doing all these."

He finally calmed down. "It cannot be him, my princess."

"Just... Just think about it. No one, and I stress it, no one hates demons more than him. Furthermore, he has always been charismatic. A born leader. He could talk people into jumping from a tower and make them think it was what they most wanted in life. Can you come up with anyone else that fits this criteria and has an unhealthy obsession with me and blood?"

...

"Why include you? What is his purpose?"

"...Why not?" bitter tears threatened to fall.

She held them back. She would never, ever cry again.

Not for a traitor.

"We were bound by an oath, us three. Now it is only me and him."

...

_Our souls are one._

...

**Author note:** Not much happens here, but I needed to get this chapter out of the way.

I actually write this on my tablet, so I apologize for any typos. I usually tripple check everything, but there are still minor mistakes that may pass under my grammar nazi radar.

-The title, 'Red sky in the pond' relates to 'Sky in the pond', a song from the Japanese singer-songwriter Akeboshi.

-An entire lake with blood is a little farfetched; albeit this is a fanfiction of an already horror-filled manga.

-In canon we see that first Abberline meet Ciel during the Curry arc, but because of necessity their meeting had to be happen earlier; with Abberline already being informed of his status as the Watchdog.

-Toto is the name of one my parakeets. He appears as a cat here. The described temperament is the same, though.

-The pumpkin dishes are a reference to Cassandra Clare's 'Clockwork Prince'. I needed a good reason why Tanya would like Sebastian's cooking when she already has a more than perfectly competent butler. Here is the quote: 'Can you make things that don't have potatoes in them? We had an Irish cook once when I was a boy. Potato pie, potato custard, potatoes with potato sauce...'

Um, I've never had pumpkin for that matter, so I have nothing against it. I was going to use eggplants, but an eggplant cake...

-A reticule apparently is a handbag. I didn't know that until researching for Victorian accessories.

-I use Baldroy as a full name and Bard as nickname. Calling him 'Bald' didn't really make sense to me. Also, I settled for Maylene out of the many versions of her name. It sounded the most British-like.

-The 'You think you're funny./I think I'm adorable.' exchange between Tanya and Sebastian is a shameless rip-off from Supernatural, episode 2x19 Folsom Prison Blues; between Dean and Henricksen. It was just too perfect for that situation that I could not omit it.

A special thanks goes to belledubois. Your review made my day.


	4. Chapter 3: Crescendo

**Disclaimer**: Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso.

**Chapter 3:**

**Crescendo**

The sharp branches of the shrubs cut her skin, leaving gashes on her legs and arms; small droplets of blood falling to the hard forest floor, disintegrating in the air before they could reach it. She was running, almost flying, if the wind blowing her hair was any indication. But no matter how fast she was, the shadows were always faster.

They had claws and no faces, creatures born from darkness and guilt and pain. They were numerous and tenebrous, blending with each other until they were one. Their song was a chant of repetance and laments; the echoes of their wails shaking the ground, making everything under the sky quivering in fear and desperation.

_It's your fault._

She wanted to scream and cry and tear her own heart out, ending all this. Instead she kept running, having no control over her body or actions. She was a marionette, being played around by her own mind, which simply would not obbey her.

The woods took the form of a tunnel, a bright light shining from afar.

_Why did you kill me?_

She ran and ran and finally reached it, stumbling and hitting the hard rocks. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore was deafening; the white foam wet under her fingertips. Her head rose just a little, and what she saw was not what she was expecting. The firmament wasn't made of flames and hell, but of a cloudless blue. The ocean was not washed in red, but the most beautiful sea green she had ever seen.

The color of hope and torment. The color of those who had no graves.

They were there. She rolled, waiting for the shadows to encompass her. But it didn't happen.

She met in horror ruddy hair and ashen skin, floating in flakes with the breeze; bones visible underneath were the pieces had been peeled. His eyes were no more ocean, he had no more eyes. The hollows were black and unseeing, staring right through her being.

Unforgiving.

_I loved you._

Tanya opened her eyelids. Faster than one thousand of a second, she threw the dagger hidden under her pillow to the form her unfocused vision distinguished in the murk.

Luke stopped the weapon without difficulty. Speed doesn't equal strength, especially if one is half asleep. Putting it aside, he walked slowly to her bed, lest she wasn't completely conscious. Concerned, his hands held both sides of her face, forcing her to look at him.

Like any other night she slept. This was not an uncommon occurrence.

"What did you dream of?"

His voice was what anchored her to reality. Tanya realized the murk was just the gloominess of her room and that she was frozen, muscles stiff and paralyzed.

Another nightmare.

She exhaled deeply.

But there was no relief. There never was.

...

"You swirling in a pink tutu."

Luke almost groaned. "I am glad you are your wonderfully captivating self again, my princess."

"What time is it?"

Judging by the dimness it must've been dawn.

"Almost six o'clock, my princess."

So she had only had one hour or so of sleep. Like it was not enough that she had an ingrained insomnia, legacy of her demonic parentage. Now she could not even complete those three hours of needed sleep every night.

It had been a year already. When would they go away?

"Would you like for me to bring you some tea? It will calm your nerves down."

"You know I hate tea."

Of course he knew. How could he forget the Baroness screeching at him when a five-year-old Tanya did not want to drink her afternoon tea, blaming him for the girl's dislike of such an integral part of British culture. And surely there were also the maids, who used every single opportunity to reprimand him whenever the young Lady did something improper for her status. Really, there was no woman in the entire property who would not rebuke him on something.

"Just a cup of chamomille. What harm can it do?"

"...Fine."

No more than a couple of minutes after, she was already dressed and slurping the hot liquid; features twisted in disgust, probably more to spite him than in real repulsion. Surely the tea he had prepared could not be that repugnant, could it?

"Your schedule for today, my princess?"

By the kind of clothes she had worn, he could guess the answer already.

Tanya set the mug away. "I was thinking of paying a visit to Augustus. It has been quite a while since I last spoke to him."

Luke was not very thrilled. He had never liked the young man that much. Tanya found him a pain most of the time, although a useful one. Augustus Strauss was the best informator in the Underworld; nothing could pass under his ever watchful eye, from what transpired in the grimmy East End, to the conspirancies and intrigues of the Royal Court. How exactly he managed was a mystery, since he was a new addition, having lived in London only for three years.

"You know it troubles me profoundly that I cannot make out what he is, my princess."

Not human. There was a certain something that distinguished him, and the theories varied from the most reasonable to the craziest ones. Tanya had once suggested that maybe he was a mermaid, who lured people in the Thammes and then turned them into fairy dust in his sacred den.

She really should start being more selective with the books she read.

"It would be very probable if he was like me."

"But he is not marked as of the Lineage, my princess."

"Maybe his marks are in places which the sun does not shine much."

Considering he was always shirtless, the insinuation was pretty clear.

"I do not know if I should be worried that you entertain these thoughts, my princess," Luke said wearily.

"How nice of you preoccupying yourself with my innocence."

He was about to tell her that there was nothing innocent in her at all; that there were times when she deserved to have her mouth washed with industrial soap and her brain thoroughly bleached. But he did not. Certain opinions one should keep to himself.

"Do you wish to visit him now?"

"Why not. Even if the fellow minds, it is not our problem."

...

The fellow did mind. He stood in the threeshold reeking of alcohol, only in a thin pair of underpants; black hair tousled as if a bird had nested in his head. And then had died.

Violet eyes squinted at them.

"Are you serious, you morons?"

His heavy German accent carried with the words.

"Good morning to you too, loser."

Tanya and Luke strolled past him in the small room, the strong natural scent overwhelming their sense of smell. She was being cautious of not getting too close to any of the plants. Despite seeming an innocuous, little shop that provided citizens with colorful flowers from all parts of the world, it was actually a burrow full of poison.

Lethal doses to humans had no effect on her. But that place had the right amount.

"Partying by yourself?" Tanya lightly kicked an empty bottle laying on the pavement. "You've really fallen low."

Smug.

"There were more than two people here last night, biscuit. I'm good at multiple tasks."

"Like breathing and being an ignorant at the same time, you mean?"

"It's too early for your boring sass," the poison expert yawned. "What do you need? You've kept yourself busy lately, or so I've heard."

"Somewhat. Murdering enough people to fill an entire lake is a very time-consuming activity," she waved her hand dismissively.

"It'll increase your fame. If it doesn't, being buddies with Victoria's Doggie will."

He just had to remind her of that cretin.

Even if Augustus' tone was casual, Tanya did not buy it. He was like a nosy bee, trying to gather nectar from wherever he could. She neither denied nor confirmed his statement. He may as well have been working for other persons for all she knew.

"You do not happen to have information on who was behind it, do you?"

Tanya would have rather not asked him, but Luke did not believe her. She needed proof. Apparently the fact that anybody who was acquainted with her, would think twice before involving her so, and then decide not to, was not sufficent to him.

_Insufferable dork._

Augustus' gaze cleared, losing all traces of haziness.

"I'm not omniscient. But I have a feeling you-"

"Do not bother me with worthless talk."

There. She had her answer.

"Instead, do you have anything that could be of my interest?"

Augustus rubbed his fingers together. Luke took out the small drawstring bag from his pocket and handed it to him.

"There's been another move with your signature on it," he started after counting the money.

Tanya and Luke glanced at each other.

"Go to the Undertaker. You won't be disappointed."

...

Anything but this.

Coincidencies of this sort...

No, it was Augustus' fault. She was going to smash every single vase in that imbecile's shop. Having been tricked by him was unacceptable.

In front of her stood Ciel Phantomhive in all his dwarfish glory, sulking like there was no tomorrow. Next to him his butler, face lighting up like a child in Christmas' Eve. Tanya asked herself what had she done to deserve this.

It was more of a rhetorical question.

Ciel had been informed before sunrise of three bodies found right in the middle of the square in front of Westminster Abbey. According to the Yard, the corpses were naked and mutilated in atrocious ways. Since the victims could not be identified they had been transported to the mortician, as per rule.

What was that brash girl doing there.

"You really can't stay away from me, can you, little Earl?"

Insouciantly.

"I see you came with your babysitter."

Luke's brow furrowed in confusion. What was this unpleasant child talking about?

"You look ridiculous."

She knew she probably did. The cape was too big for her, hiding her feminine frame completely; only dark boots and a bit of her pants showing from underneath the long material.

That did not mean she appreciated him saying it loud.

She removed her hat, ponytail previously concealed cascading on her shoulders.

"I was inspired by your choice in clothing, Grumpy. We could even pass for sisters."

Somewhere in the Earl's resolve a string broke.

So this was why no one recognized her. Of course. A young woman of the higher classes wandering through shady businesses would be a scandal. But a generically dressed man no one would notice. He didn't doubt many of her connections were not aware of her gender at all.

Before Ciel could reply nastily, one of the coffins opened sinisterly.

Spooky giggle.

"Oh, you two are friends?"

The Undertaker creeped out, long nails scratching the wood. When she had first met him, Tanya had been sure he was a vampire. Or a ghoul. That he collected organs for research didn't help. He had probably acquired a taste for them, too.

"More like an obsessive crush from the little Earl's part."

...

"He is not to blame. I am stunningly beautiful, after all."

Outrageous.

"...This is enough."

The Undertaker grinned hysterically.

"Why don't you take a seat? I'll prepare tea."

"It is not necessary."

Ciel wasn't eager to drink from those containers he used.

Sitting on one of the coffins, he was quite vexed when Tanya settled right next to him.

"The other one was damp."

Everything in her stance indicated she was discomfortable. She even started drumming her fingers on the hard surface. An absolutely aggravating gesture.

What he didn't know was that her queasiness had nothing to do with him. Tanya found it difficult to relax under the taller demon's scrutiny. No matter how much she glared at him, his smirk only grew bigger.

"If you don't stop that, I'll kill you."

She looked the Earl dead in the eyes.

Drum.

...

"Cookies?"

The Undertaker's wacky behaviour contrasted with the tense ambience.

"I want some," Tanya raised her hand.

...

Ciel blinked. She had stopped the jar millimeters away from his face. He was too baffled to properly lash out at the funeral director.

"What can I help you with?"

"Start with telling us about those cadavers," she said, still munching.

"Oh, my latests guests," he sounded strangely exited. "I have never seen such an impeccable work. It was... Like art."

"What do you mean?" Ciel asked.

"Their flesh was the canvas to a demented mind."

Coming from him that was a serious accusation.

"Can we see them?"

"Certainly, you can... But before, you have to give me that."

"Your absurd price."

A finger poised on her lips. Ciel recoiled. How she kept her cool was beyond him.

"Now that I think of it... It has been quite long since the last time, hasn't it?"

Tanya was bored. So he wanted her to do it. She knew that beside mischief, the golden green eyes of the renegade Death God would hold something else. He would never let that one incident go.

Thrusting the jar to the Earl's chest, she rose.

"Get out," decidedly. "All of you. Luke, don't let them peek."

"But my princess-"

"Don't 'my princess' me. This is not discussable."

Reluctant.

"...As you wish."

...

Ciel found himself standing outside, under the umbrella Sebastian held. He was sceptic if she would succeed. Or how long it would take. He did not have all day.

"Such genuine devotion and dedication..."

The Earl scowled at his butler. What was the idiot attempting? This was not the right moment.

Luke directed his attention to him, the beads of light rain dripping from his hair and coat; evident concern turning into a grave expression. Ignoring the more powerful demon was useless. He would find a way with words and guile to take whatever he pleased. Appealing to their curiosity was bad news in itself. But stimulating their amusement... Meant only doom. They would slowly take apart the source of their delight, piece by piece, to discover what made them enticing; afterwards crushing whatever had remained.

He had seen it happen.

Once upon a time... Many lives ago...

It had happened to him also.

But the fascination this specific demon had with his princess... Was alarming.

"...Bearing a bargain that is not yours."

Their gazes locked.

Two monsters staring down each other.

...

The building boomed with laughter.

Ciel was literally astounded.

Three minutes. Exactly all it had taken her.

Rushing inside, he saw the Undertaker doubling on the floor, clapping his hands, still cackling. A flustered Tanya was on her feet, cape gone and putting her gloves back on.

Ciel could not believe his own eye.

"What the hell did you do?"

She blew air at her bangs angrily. "You wouldn't want to know."

The funeral director sprawled, spit trickling from his mouth.

"My, my... If only you visited more often..."

"Show us those damn bodies. Now."

...

The morgue was cold and candlelit, the not yet buried resting in the semidarkness. Death hanged in every corner, cramming the small space. Tanya thought it must've been a dreadful experince to a human, that of lifelessness and despair; icy somberness reaching for your throat.

She wished for the only living human there to just suffocate on it.

After a very snarky and very heated exchange with the grouchy chihuahua, she gave in and let them both come with her and Luke to the vault. And now here she was, trapped between the defunct and the eccentric dummy, the only way of escape blocked by that tall scarecrow.

"Sure you can handle this without vomiting, little Earl?"

Scoff.

She fully removed the cloth of the first table.

Ciel could not deny his guts churned for a moment.

The corpse was male, though that could be told only by the chest, because the genitalia had been cut off completely. The hair had been shaved; face smashed, features only meaty bumps. And the rest of the body... The Undertaker hadn't been exaggerating when calling it a 'canvas'.

Innumerable symbols and small letters grisly decorated the flesh, leaving nothing of the washed out skin without being engraved; similar to the paintings you saw on stained glasses and monastery manuscripts. No clots of liquid, not even a single spot. Too clean.

"Well," Tanya said clinically, "I guess they won't need much their family treasures in the afterlife."

...

"Your remarks are not necessary."

"Neither are yours for that matter."

She carefully neared the candle to the dead body, examining it with an academical interest. Ciel moved closer to her, cautious of not even brushing her elbow, lest his new nickname became 'little pervert'.

"Occultism," the Undertaker whispered exitedly, "the symbols of... The devil."

"Not really. The reversed pentagram with two points projecting upwards is such. The triumph of matter over spirit. This is different. It may be a symbol of Christianity. It was used in ancient times to represent the five senses, or the five wounds of Christ. The poet who wrote 'Sir Gawain and the Green Knight' extended its meaning, even tracing the roots back to King Solomon and his Seal."

...

Tanya met bewildered stares.

"I read many books."

Ciel crossed his arms. "Maybe it has a connection with the location where they were found."

"Where would that be?"

"Westminster Abbey."

"A gothic church, no less. I don't think it's more to appreciate religion... Than to say 'screw you' to it."

Pointed look.

"What are you implying?"

Tanya really would prefer not telling him much. But unfortunately, it was easier to her organizing her thoughts aloud. She did not need names nor reasons. She needed to understand what he was doing.

"The one who was falsifying my handwriting mentioned something about a leader. By the way he spoke of him, he held the subject in high regards. And I suspect the ones whose blood was used to filled the lake did it voluntary."

"You mean followers."

"Exactly. And who has followers?"

"One who sees himself as a God," Ciel said. "All the symbolism therefore. Now the 'Paradise Lost' references make sense. In order to be the new God..."

"He has to overthrow the old one. But whereas not everyone has faith in light, no one denies the existence of darkness. Who do you think are the gods of our own twisted world, little Earl?"

Realization dawned.

_The demons._

...

Watching the two of them interact was usually very interesting, but this... This was another thing. Their minds worked in very similar ways, ideas flowing freely without restrain; almost completementing each other towards a shared goal. If they were always so collaborative, Sebastain observed, few things would be able to hinder them.

"Do you understand little Earl, or should I illustrate it somehow?"

If it were not for their personalities. Pity they were the ones that made them so enthralling in first place.

"Look here," she pointed at something.

Ciel read the inscription.

Twitch.

"What is this?"

"_Gott ist tot. _It is German."

"You speak German?"

"French and Latin too. They come in handy in cases like this."

Was she kidding him?

"It means, 'God is dead'," thoughtfully. "I think I've heard that previously... I cannot remember where though."

"Another book?" the Undertaker suggested.

"Probably."

She moved to the other table, the candle being snatched away by Sebastian. He bowed lightly.

"Allow me."

Glare.

Luke was ready to jump on the other demon and yank his head off. All he did was grit his teeth.

Always the perfect butler, Sebastian lifted the cloth only partially, leaving covered the parts from the waist down. This one was male too and had suffered the same things as the previous one, with a sole exception. There were no pictures on him, but cursive writing in lines, akin to poetry.

"It is an elegy," Sebastian supplied. "From the Roman poet Gaius Valerius Catullus. More specifially, the 'Catullus 101'. It is dedicated to the poet's own brother's death."

It was her the bewildered one this time.

"You are not the only one who has read many books, my Lady," gladdened smile. "Now, why don't you recite the original, while I translate for the young master and the bystanders?"

Luke's disapproval was unmistakably ardent. She shook her head at him.

"Oh, please go on," the Undertaker said, bissful giggle accompanying his sentece.

Tanya contemplated how much scar-face had gathered. It wasn't relevant in the big picture; this had nothing to do with him.

He would never lower himself to work with a Reaper.

"_Heu miser indigne frater adempte mihi_..."

"Alas, poor brother, unfairly taken away from me..."

Awkwardness.

She did not let it show. That ignoramus didn't require more justifications to gloat.

"_Nunc tamen interea haec prisco quae more parentum_..."

"Now, in the meantime, nevertheless, these things which in the ancient custom of the ancestors..."

Crystalline and gentle, a reminder so strong of psalms and canticles that it was not difficult to Ciel visualizing himself inside of a cathedral. The religious imagery was but foolishness to him. He had no faith. And ironically, it were the beasts themselves who brought forth the sensations.

"_Tradita sunt tristi munere ad inferias_..."

"Are handed over as a sad tribute to the rites..."

Swallow.

She had glimpsed at the last line.

"_Accipe fraterno multum mamantia fletu_..."

"Receive, dripping much with brotherly weeping."

_...I am sorry, my princess. You were right._

"_Ave in perpetuum frater ave atque vale._"

"And forever, brother, hail and farewell."

So low, Ciel had to strain to hear her.

Silence.

...

"Let me guess," the Undertaker perked up. "The last one is female, isn't it?"

Without waiting for an answer, she hurled the cloth from the final body.

Young. Blonde. Same measurements. Could've been her doppelgänger. Only the nose was too big and nails bitten to chunky pieces.

Unmarred, save for two words on her stomach.

_Memento mori._

"Remember that you will die."

Sebastian provided in English when she said nothing.

"...Proof?"

Shame.

Luke would flinch if he could.

"Here is your proof."

"What are you-"

Ciel found himself adressing the air.

"Thank you for your help," the butler nodded to the Undertaker.

He was not much keen on racial differences, however it was not to say he did not feel aversion. After all, souls were their food.

Without paying any attention to the child and his contractor, he went after her. Grabbing her cape, he exited the funeral parlor; nose tracing trails, steps light and quick running in her direction. Turn left. Right. There she was. Leaning on the column of a ruined building, sheltered from the rain. Waiting for him.

"My princ-"

"I am not angry," she was picking at her sweater. "But I do accept your humble apology."

"How do you feel?" he drew the cape around her shoulders.

Luke had it impossible to be relieved at the fact that she was not mad at him. How could he, when he was not even able to perceive the kind of shock she was going through?

Curiously.

"Me? I am oozing with happiness. It isn't everyday occurrence that the pal who disappeared over a year ago now returns craving my death."

"But why would he want that?"

...

"Rudy died because of me."

"No, my princess, it was not your f-"

"Shut. Up."

Her knees were too weak.

"Johann..."

So long. She had forgotten the sound of his name.

"Johann resents me. Why not? They were closer than brothers. Almost the same person. And I..."

No. Not this again.

Luke suddenly seized her. She was too confounded even to react.

"Listen here, Tatianna. Rudy had a noble end. More than anyone could ever hope to have. He sacrificed himself for love. To protect what he most held dear. And there is nobody that knows that better than Johann. You said it yourself. Almost the same."

She lowered her head.

"He would not have wanted this."

_I do not want this either, my princess._

"...No. He wouldn't."

That changed nothing.

It never would.

Guilt would follow her to the tomb and lay there for eternity.

They both knew that.

...

"I forgot my hat. Can you go back to the Undertaker and take it? I don't want to see again those two."

She needn't say anything more. "Immediately, my princess."

...

"This is getting out of hand."

The previous drizzle had turned into a downpour. Refusing Sebastian's help, he heaved himself into the waiting carriage; doused like a common rat, that girl's comments from the other day still stinging him.

"I will leave it to you. Use whatever... Method, you prefer. Just find out what the hell is happening."

"Of course, my Lord."

The hint couldn't have been more obvious. Then why did Sebastian seem so content?

"Aren't you coming?"

The interior was warm and dry, gelid wind only entering from the door that freak was keeping open. He should be more careful regarding his health.

"Actually, I am going to ask something of the young master, if that wouldn't be too much."

"What is it?"

"Do you think you can delay the Miss' butler long enough?"

"What makes you sure he will come?"

Sebastian showed him her hat.

That had been sly. Not like the Earl would ever acknowledge it.

"Very well," taking the accessory from him. "Now leave. I will hold him as long as I can."

As long as the job was finished, Ciel didn't care. He really wanted to close this particular case, and save himself from meeting her again in future. That she was not the puppeteer was not important. If she became an obstacle, he would destroy her.

The demon slipped away wordlessly, disappearing like smoke.

_Whatever method, young master?_

Sharp grin.

_You should not have said that._

...

**Author note:** I usually follow the Chekov's gun rule, not including anything that won't be relevant to the story. If the rifle isn't planned to go off, then it will not be in there. As in, there is a good reason why Tanya is in pants. No, really.

I also try to foreshadow a bit. The backstories are vague at best, but everything will be eventually explained in the next few chapters.

We know that in Kuroshitsuji many names have different versions. In the previous chapter I clarified the use of the servants' names, and I probably should have done with since Madame Red's first mention. I usually go by the Wikia, and there her surname is 'Dalles' ('Dallas' was a typo, so I apologize for that). I know that many call her Angelina Durless, but here I will choose the versions that sound the most British-like (as I said before, 'Maylene' instead of 'May-Rin' and so on...).

Also, the "...father's private room" instead of just "...father's" is grammatically correct. But when I write character's dialogues (narration is not included) I try to break intentionally some of these rules. In real life no one speaks like an English teacher, to say the truth. So that is why you may even see the characters leaving their sentences in half.

I hope I have cleared any misunderstanding.

-'Crescendo' is in Italian, and is a musical term for a gradual increase. Considering how things are heating up...

-Ghouls are undead from Arabian mythology; they rob graves and feed on the dead. Thus the comparison Tanya makes with the Undertaker.

-The part where Tanya drums her fingers and Ciel threatens her was inspired by the 1x17 Hell House of Supernatural, where Dean continuously pulls a puppet's string, making it laugh.

-'Sir Gawain and the Green Knight' is a late 14th-century Middle English Arthurian romance. I personally haven't read it.

-There is a quote from Nietzsche in there, but being relevant to the plot I am not bringing it up explicitly. Although it's pretty famous, so it's kinda lame of me.

-The languages Tanya speaks are more of a necessity than real skill. French was considered a must for nobility; in the series we see Ciel speaks it fluently. Being a meticulous researcher of demonology, it is only natural for her to have learnt Latin. Later on, it will also be clear why she knows German too.

Despite her mother being Russian, Tanya doesn't speak the language. Except for the fact that it wasn't really relevant, I thought that someone like Anastassia wouldn't have bothered teaching her. And there is also another reason, but that I won't spoil.

-'Memento mori' is a Latin medieval representation of the reflection of mortality; detaching one's self from the earthly goods and moving towards the immortality of the soul and the afterlife. Here I have used the literal meaning, as in 'You will die'. Poor Tanya.

Big thanks to those who have reviewed and favorited till now and thanks in advance to those who will continue to do so.

To the reviewer who asked all those questions: Everything will be revealed in the story. Just wait and see.


	5. Chapter 4: River of dreams

**Disclaimer**: Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso.

**Chapter 4:**

**River of dreams**

Many believed they were both monster and human, able to pick a side and decide for themselves; draw the line where darkness ended and light began.

_My liege..._

Lies.

There was no line to draw.

_...has ordered me..._

No matter how fast you ran, no matter if you went to the end of the world; it would always be behind your back, a shadow following like a predator stalks its prey.

_...to train you..._

They had been born from hell, and to hell they belonged.

_...my princess._

There was no choice.

She had been twelve, standing barefoot on the grass; scratching herself discreetely in all the places the rough fabric itched. New garments to move freely. No shoes. Your feet will hurt, but you have to learn to properly use your sense of touch. Feel the vibrations in the air. Hone your insticts. Climb. Jump. Slaughter.

That was just the basics.

If you wanted to survive.

_What are you going to teach me?_

She had been eager and happy. She had always wanted to be strong and not fear anything.

_Carry someone as big as papa over my shoulder? Turn a big rock into dust with one kick? Or-_

She had been such an idiot.

_First lesson._

He had handled her a knife. The first time Luke had ever let her hold something so sharp and dangerous.

_Throw a knife._

Sitting on that old warehouse's stairs, fingertips caressing the steely blade, Tanya now simply wished that someone had told her the truth. That being strong does not mean pulverizing mountains and smashing people's faces; that fear never leaves, but always haunts you in one form or another.

And that there are scars that never heal.

It was useless mentioning what her family had thought of that. To say the Baroness had been scandalized did not even begin it. She had been planning to engage her. Who would ever want a rugged woman who played with swords and spent time outdoors? Women did not fight. Women stayed at home, took care of their husbands and were impeccable ladies of the society.

_'But mama,' the young crab said, 'you tell me to walk straight, but you yourself still scurry sideways.'_

_'Do as I say,' she answered. 'Not as I do.'_

Mama crab. Pincers and all, it fit nicely.

Bartholomew instead had patted Luke on the back, and then had gone off somewhere to get as drunk as possible without exploding like a balloon full of whisky. Luke, who had not wasted time teaching her what she could already do. The demon who did not like war and violence, who would rather had her stay home and be a perfect little doll.

Seven years later and she still trained every single night before sleep, or whatever it could be called. She didn't do it simply because it had become routine by then. Tanya wondered quite often if she was a disappointment to him.

_Oh, Luke. But I am not sorry._

Dodging the object that flew towards her, she thought of how much safer and inevitably boring her life would have turned out, if Luke hadn't been ordered to groom her into the good little soldier she was fated to be.

In the sea of many, many regrets, this was something she would have never done differently.

The cape fell from her shoulders.

Who the hell used silverware as weapons?

_...Shit._

Tanya pulled the knives hiding inside of her sleeves, spreading them apart in each hand; mentally counting how many she had on her, and thinking they would not be damn enough. Without a miracle, a Reaper's Scythe or an enormous chuck of iron falling on his head... Her only possibility was escaping.

There. He had made her feel a coward once more.

Sebastian landed on his feet, parading his shiny arsenal of utensils, brilliant smile still in place. The action reminded her of a peacock; one who deserved to be plucked and have its feathers hanged as decorations.

So much for not meeting him again.

"Is it too much an effort for your cranky dinner to show himself?"

This was bad. Without his master there to control him, he was practically free to do anything he wanted. It was impossible comprehending what that would be. The demon was as unfathomable as always. A pretty show of corteousness and haughtiness; she could not even imagine what lurked beneath it.

"My Lord cannot stoop to dealing with foul mutts, I am afraid."

"You are right. Doing the dirty work is the reason you exist after all, isn't it, slave?"

Despite infuriating him was definitely not the right thing to do, her more immature self rejoiced at the drop of that smirk.

"Certainly. Allow me to end this particular dirty work, then."

She saw the shift in his stance and jumped, the kitchenware piercing the wall behind her. Sliding back on the slippery ground, she slung a handful of knives at him. Sebastian dodged, and then charged at her. Blocking his kick proved itself a very idiotic idea. Her forearms ached as if burnt with hot iron.

Tanya tried to push herself and create some distance for better aim, but he was on her again; their movements a blur of limbs and blows, the thunderous clashing of metal louder than the storm blacking the skies over them.

She wasn't able to sidestep in time. The strike sent her crashing against the building, excruciating pain on her back making her wince. Something warm and thick ran down her right eye, obfuscating her vision.

Blood.

Tanya removed the embedded shard from her forehead. Lifting herself from the debris, feet wobbling just a little, she realized the lack of sleep was finally getting at her.

Sebastian touched the gash on his cheek. Catching the crossbreed by surprise had been difficult. She was by no means unprepared. What lacked in strength was compesated with remarkable speed. But he had no patience for this.

Somewhat irked.

What an incovenience she was.

"You are making me fall behind schedule by five minutes."

Flipping the pocket watch close, he removed his tailcoat; pink eyes flashing brighter than the lightning above.

Devilish smile.

"I won't be gentle anymore."

...

Like sitting on pins and needles, though no one could tell. What else, when he had no idea how to carry on a conversation with this demon whom he had never spoken once before?

"I humbly apologize..."

Upon arriving in front of the funeral parlor, Luke had been called by the Earl Phantomhive, who apparently had something he wanted to discuss with him. Aside from the use of the ungratifying term 'lowly servant' from the child's part, he had been hesitant in complying. What could he possibly want?

"But I do not have much time."

After explaining that he had sent his own butler away on an errand specifically so that they would not be disturbed, Ciel had practically ordered him to sit down. Now, the two of them stood in front of each other; one curious, the other raking his brain to find something.

"My princess is waiting for me."

Asking him about the case would be unavailing. His mouth was probably shut, in accordance to the contract. He would never betray his mistress.

Wait.

_...Bearing a bargain that is not yours._

What exactly had the idiot meant with that? Well, it would be a good starting point.

Ciel cleared his throat. "Why did Sebastian say the bargain isn't yours to bear?"

...

"That is something I cannot disclose."

He just needed to delay him. Insisting on the matter did not mean that the Earl was, in fact, interested. Not one bit.

"Why not? Has she specifically ordered you not to do so?"

"It does not matter in the least if I am commanded or not. I will never say anything that my princess may not approve."

_Such genuine devotion and dedication..._

That idiot had probably never uttered truer words.

"Your princess. Why attach yourself so much to a soul you are going to devour in the end?"

...

His response was merely an apathetic look.

"Is there a way you can be convinced to talk?"

"Certainly. Please, permit me to ask my princess first, then I will tell the Earl everything he wishes to know."

Twitch. Twitch.

Only because he was very mild in comparison to her, that did not mean this butler was not damn annoying. Were all demons such pesky creatures, or only the ones he had the misfortune of interacting with?

"Now, I beg your pardon, Earl Phantomhive, but I must get going," easily snatching away the hat hidden under his coat. "As I said, my princess is waiting. I hope you have a nice day."

A beffudled Ciel watched the demon exite the carriage, instantly a black silhoutte against the grey backdrop; heavy rain impairing his vision.

This was not what he had planned. Sebastian hadn't returned yet. He needed to buy more time.

He jumped down from the carriage, boots swimming in the mud, and quickly went after the butler as fast as he could. A confused Luke stopped immediately, turning to the boy.

"Why..." Ciel had to pause to catch his breath. "So much... Secrecy? You think I may use it against her?"

Luke did not believe he was that invested in his princess. There must've certainly been ulterior motives.

Sigh.

He would have to be more straightforward.

"Would you be willing to divulge anything regarding your own contract, Earl Phantomhive?"

...

His glower was colder than ice.

"Then why should it be different for my princess?"

For the first time in years, Ciel did not know what to reply to that.

"...Her soul must be very delicious to you demons."

Wry smile.

"Not really. But it is one of those few who don't deserve what happens to them."

_Deserve...? _

_We never do._

A deserted street in the middle of a cloudburst was definitely not the right place to have a conversation. But the Earl knew when he had just got on to something, and he had no intention of giving up now. Time was all he needed.

"Why do you say that?"

Luke arched his eyebrows. "Hasn't your servant told you?"

"Tell me what, exactly?"

The child lived with a demon and knew little of their ways. Luke wondered whether it was a mere lack of interest, or a very proficient commitment to keep his master unaware. He thought of his own princess, who when there was something that may concern her, even indirectly, would not rest until having exhausted it completely.

"I suppose that the Earl at least has knowledge of my princess' nature," at his annoyed nod, Luke went on. "Her kind esentially possesses qualities from both creatures it originated from. That said, they are mostly considered as 'demons with human souls'. But you see, Earl..."

_I've accepted it long ago, comrade. I'll never be human._

Luke did not know why that particular memory came to his mind. It probably was because that boy had been the only halfblood he had ever met, whose scale did not weight somehow.

"There cannot exist such a being. The demonic part will always taint the human soul, no matter how pure it may initially be."

_But I won't be a monster either._

"That is not to say their humanity is completely overwhelmed. Absolutely."

_Just halfdemon. Nothing more, nothing less._

It was sorrowful, but he still cherished it. That young boy had earned his sincere respect with his actions. It was impossible not reminiscing him fondly.

"Nevertheless, that is the reason why their souls do not taste good."

A certain demon he knew had so politely compared them to cat piss. How he possessed the required knowledge to make such a statement, Luke had not dared ask.

"Then why are you contracted to her? What do you gain from your deal?"

"Me?" shrug. "Nothing."

He suddenly swept in his previous direction, listening attentively. A very faint sound. Eerily similar to...

His eyes widened.

"My princess!"

...

Everything was such a mess.

After having no more knives and daggers, and an observation of that scarecrow regarding 'passion', Tanya had resorted to hurl even a column from her prior smash at him. Just to show that bastard some passion he had asked for. The only reason people weren't flooding to see what was happening was because no one had heard them. Besides it being an area of abandoned warehouses, there was also the storm; no, the universal deluge that existed for the sole purpose of adding to her suffering

Panting harshly, soaked to the bone and hurting everywhere; Tanya was starting to think it would never end.

She was not alone in her agony.

Despite her being in a much, much worse state than him, Sebastian wasn't in his top form either. Hair plastered to his front and shirt ripped in many places, showing his bleeding cuts; his face twisted in pure loathe and irritation. If looks could burn, she would have already been a heap of ashes.

Nevertheless, not all had been naught. He had noticed during their fight that she was slower in responding to any attack that may've come from her left; something highly unusual for a halfbreed, unless she had a specific hearing problem in that ear. But they never suffered from such incapacities, and from what he'd seen before, their injuries always healed, except for the irreversible ones. Lost arm, blindness, paralysis...

She was deaf from her left ear.

...

Tanya did not like the way he grinned.

He dashed at her and she tried to hit him. Sebastian ducked in the last second and she turned to her right, ready to fling at him; not prepared in the least when the blow came from her only weak spot.

Her head and spine knocked forcefully against the earth, the strong impact making her gasp for air. His body crushed hers, effectively restricting any possible struggle. He bent close, interrupting the rain from falling on her face, allowing her to look at him. His hands squeezed her throat tightly.

"Now that you are finally under my mercy," he said patronizingly, "why don't you start telling me everything you know?"

Hatefully.

"Fuck you."

Light frown.

Tanya felt a bone or two crack, almost losing consciousness from the pressure on her neck.

"Very classy, indeed."

Her body was growing numb and cold. She wasn't feeling anymore her injuries or the icy prickle of raindrops on her bare skin. It was becoming strenous even focusing. One moment she was there; the other in faraway times, in one of those remote glitters of happines she stored away even from herself.

The warmth of twilight sunshine. The softness of green grass. Flower petals clinging to their clothes. Johann gazing at the clouds, stormy grey irises almost amber reflecting the light. Rudy listening joyfully to her, flaming hair blazing in the breeze.

_It doesn't matter if you read me poetry or a book on calving._

_I love the sound of your voice._

She was jerked back to reality at the feeling of her hip being lifted and a hand groping her rear. Her eyes snapped panicked at his red ones. What the hell was he doing, fondling her?

"Why don't you just kill me already?"

Sebastian cocked an eyebrow at her, his expression the smuggest that she'd ever seen. Tanya wished for a bolt of lightning to strike him dead.

"But where would the fun be in that? Ah, here it is."

He pushed her down again, holding the pack of cigarettes Tanya had had in the back pocket. How had it not fallen during their fight was beyond her. He pulled one out by using his teeth and tossed the package away. Searching inside of his own pocket, he grabbed a matchbox and then lit the cigarette up, careful of not letting the fire be extinguished by the humidity.

He inhaled, and then blew the smoke to her face.

Tanya was flabbergasted.

"I always return the favor, little mutt."

...

"Let me go."

Sebastian seemed not to hear her, inspecting the cigarette in his hand.

"Hm. I do not understand the obsession with tobacco some have. It is nothing but flavor. I find it quite ordinary."

"Let me fucking go."

He had just beaten her to a bloody pulp and she had no freaking intention to hear his opinion. Actually, she did not want to see his damn face for the rest of her life.

"I am not yours to order. Only my young master holds that power over m-"

"I don't care just get off me you asshole!"

It had been too much to hold anymore. The weakness and hopelessness had finally subdued her, the weight of humiliation too heavy to continue ignoring it. Anger, frustration, a thousand ugly emotions she was used to keep at bay and not let them show; now swirling inside of her, ready to flow, the tears burning her eyes.

_Don't cry. No one has the right to make you waste your tears._

She'd rather die than cry because of him.

Sebastian flicked the cigarette away; slightly raising her chin, looking at her thoughtfully.

"You are more human that I thought you were."

...

"Your butler is coming."

The familiar presence coming towards their direction was so relieving, that Tanya thought she could kiss both Luke and his hideous cat. Then she felt the smaller following presence, distinctly human; a soul sporting many wounds and hiding them determinedly, strong-willed in achieving his goal.

The pirate chihuahua.

So this had been it. Grumpy had delayed Luke to give an opening to the scarecrow.

These two were asking to be barbecued and fed to the ducks.

"And your noble, highborn owner is with him. Poor dwarf. He is worried for his dog."

Sebastian rose to his feet and offered his hand at her. Tanya stared for a moment, before slapping it away. Trying to stand up, a sharp jolt in her ankle made her lose her balance and fall on her butt in a pool of mud. At his snicker, she gathered a fistful of dirt and threw it at him. Sebastian dodged, even more amused.

"My princess!"

Luke was immediately next to her, kneeling and pushing the wet hair away from her face; extremely worried and anxious, a state she had only seen him once before. And both times it was because of her.

"You..."

He turned to an indifferent Sebastian, quiet rage boiling inside.

"What have you-"

"Cease it, Luke."

Stupefied.

"...It was my fault. I provoked him."

"I do not belie-"

"I am not interested whether you believe me or not, that is a damn order and you will respect it!"

...

Luke averted his gaze, realizing what she was doing. It was impossible not to, when he knew her better than she even knew herself. After all, he had brought her up. He was no match for the other demon and she was only caring for his own safety. It should had been the other way round, but... Things really had changed, hadn't they? She was no little girl anymore.

_My princess. Such hardness you've had to endure._

...

It all happened too soon.

Ciel reached them, stopping to observe the scene in front of him. The warehouse to his right was the most damaged, the one without the column. One small sound. And then, the booming of everything falling apart.

Tanya was aware of how contracts worked; demons that had no qualms about letting their masters be hurt, as long as they still went on living, thus not annulling the bargain. She was also aware that it was impossible that he was growing on her, like those parasitic herbs did; first of all she did not like him in the least, and second, they did not even know each other.

But in that instant, he was neither the dog nor the Earl. He was just a little boy, frail and vulnerable; property of a demon who was not going to save him from being crippled for the rest of his life, simply because she was there.

It the end, the guilt would be hers to endure.

Not another time.

The next thing Ciel saw was her face, inches away from his; droplets of red water falling to his cheek.

Shocked.

"...Why...Why did you do that?"

So much effort to speak.

"Because I am a cretin. That's why."

Ciel was pushed roughly from beneath hear, scraping his knee against rocks; nothing compared to what he would have undergone otherwise. He saw her arms give out and collapse, almost gagging at the unsighly condition of her leg; the numerous pieces of metal and glass piercing her flesh, blood flowing freely as if from a stream.

That girl had just saved his life at her own expense.

The rain finally stopped.

"Luke..." no louder than a whisper. "Give me something clean to bite on."

Before the butler could even search for one, Sebastian extended her a neat handkerchief.

"...I'd rather bite your arm off."

"Please, take it. It is no bother to me."

Reluctanctly, she did after Luke gestured at her to accept it.

...

Not a scream, just a low groan that made the Earl's insides clench.

Luke put away the particulary sharp needle that had been protruding from her leg, proceeding then to rip straps from his shirt and tie up her injury. He stood up, carrying her limp form gingerly. She was too tired to keep her lids from shutting close.

Softly.

"Do not consider this a favor, Earl Phantomhive. I did not do it for you."

_I did it for me._

"...Take me home."

...

Ciel turned to his butler.

Pointedly.

"I do not appreciate you gambling with my life, demon."

Sebastian did not seem perturbed.

"You were not in any real danger, my Lord."

"Because she intervened? My well-being is your duty, Sebastian Michaelis, not hers!"

...

Sneer.

"I see you aren't unscathed. Is a small mongrel too much for you?"

He was not pleased at being derided. As fascinating as she was, she still remained an insignificant weakling.

The sky had cleared, the freshness still hanging in the air, filling his lungs.

No matter what she said, he owned her one.

The corner of his lips tugged down.

Ciel Phantomhive did not like being indebted to people.

"Let's head back to the manor. I can't stand anymore these wet clothes."

"Yes, my Lord."

Walking behind his young master, Sebastian looked at the roof of a nearby building. The glinting eyes of the falcon followed him with interest, resembling that of someone who had just discovered an exciting secret and could not wait to share it.

The bird flew away agilely before the knive could impale it, feathers left behind swimming in the air.

Scowl.

"Is there any problem, Sebastian?"

"...None at all, my Lord."

...

"This one on your forehead will scar, unfortunately."

His fingertips skimmed on the white bandage, a careful caress full of tenderness. Cocooned in the warmth of the heavy blanket and embraced by the sense of security the familiar ambience emmitted; that morning's events seemed as if they had not occurred at all, just a figment of her imagination, the ugly sensations long gone and forgotten.

If it were not for the dull ache in her leg. Even that would disappear soon. Their kind healed fast.

But it was always the wrong wounds.

"Tell me, my princess... Did you really provoke him?"

She stopped fiddling with the silky thread.

Luke clutched his forehead.

"He could have killed you."

...

"Why did you save the Earl?"

...

She was giving him what they called 'cold shoulder'. Luke had never felt that deflated in his entire existence.

He remembered when she'd been a little girl, all gold curls and big dark eyes shining with laughter and mischief; running around breaking things and then jumping into his arms to hug him.

How soon had her childhood withered.

Was it wrong to miss the times when she'd been more innocent and less world-weary?

Hesitation.

"...You do not have to sacrifice yourself for atonement, my princess."

Her jaw almost dropped.

"Not a hundred," she said, voice shaking, "not a thousand lives I may save, can ever equal Rudy's. Ever."

...

His hands were gentle on the sides of her head.

Such a grotesque contrast to the ones that had violated her that same day.

Slight tremble.

"I simply do not want you to get hurt."

_I am already too damaged._

...

"Go to Augustus. He knows more than he is letting. Use force if necessary. You understand me?"

Her wishes were his absolute orders. Standing up, hand on his now lifeless heart; he was ready to go to Hell and back if she so much as uttered so. He did not even need to be commanded.

"Right now, my princess."

...

Sharp gasp.

She had been drowning in an ocean of ice, black claws dragging her down into the abyss. The lack of air had seemed so real that she could not breathe fast enough to make up for the hollowness in her chest.

"Having one of your nice dreams, sunshine?"

Bartholomew was sitting in an armchair next to her bed, candlelight highlighting his features; almost empty bottle dangling in his hand.

Tanya sat up stiffly on the mattress, the bruises on her body making every movement pure anguish.

He grinned. "Purple suits you."

Snide glance.

"What time is it?"

"Uuh, somewhere between five and nine."

She did not even remember the last time she'd slept that much. The exhaustion had taken its toll, apparently.

"Very helpful. What are you doing here?"

"What, can't I visit my lovely niece once in a while?"

He may have been stinking of alcohol, he may have even been staggering because of alcohol; but mentally, Bartholomew Chesterfell was far from drunk. After all these years, he had acquired a certain immunity and it took large quantities to make him blabber nonsensically. Which, he never did. Nothing he said made no sense.

"You look awful. What happened?"

Disdain.

"The Earl's butler happened."

"Little Earl is still hanging around you, I see."

"That brat is like those annoying flies that buzz around your ear all the time."

"Then why don't you tell him whatever he wants to know?"

"Because it is none of his business. The Queen doesn't have to know everything."

"What makes you think he will tell the Queen? You believe Victoria is aware about his own deal with the devil?"

She did not know what to believe at that point.

"What I do know is that the Earl goes to great lengths to fulfill his duties as the Watchdog. And this is nothing that has to do with that."

"So, Johann has returned."

"...Did Luke tell you?"

"He doesn't have to. But that is the only thing that would tick you off so much, sunshine. Or am I wrong?"

He was not wrong at all. Johann's disappearance had been a second tragedy after Rudy's death. Initially she had thought nothing of it. He needed time, she could understand that. They had been brothers, bound by a blood oath, tighter than anyone could ever be. But the days became weeks and the weeks became months and there was no news of him. Johann had left her. Simple as that. He had left her as if she was nothing to him, when she'd necessitated him the most.

He had told her not to cry for anyone, but the tears she'd shed for him were the most bitter yet.

Abandonment was worse than death.

"He is as much responsible as you are, if you are still in denial, sunshine."

Bartholomew had been the only one who had told her that it was indeed her fault, and to suck it up, because there was nothing that she could do to bring him back to life. But the weight had never been hers to bear alone.

Rudy had sacrificed himself for her, but it was Johann who had summoned the demon.

Both of them had killed the person they loved the most.

"If this had been the plot of a novel," he leaned back, screwing the tape of another bottle, "I would have called it... Ah, 'River of dreams'."

"For someone who wanted to become a writer, you are not very creative at naming. Luke? Like, the Gospel? Really?"

His grin widened. "Ooh, but the best pun is his surname. Halloway."

Unimpressed.

"I assume you must've sweat on it a lot."

Bartholomew took a sip, and then offered it to her. Tanya took it this time.

"In a Wonderland they lie, dreaming as the days go by, dreaming as the summers die. Ever drifting down the stream, lingering in the golden dream. Life, what is it but a dream?"

Green eyes dazzled, he exhaled deeply.

"Dreams are fragile. Mine was crushed by this wretched company I inherited. Your sister's dream of becoming a doctor was broken by her marriage. Even your silly mother only wanted to be loved and approved."

She gulped down the contents eagerly, the liquid setting afire the way down to her stomach.

"Rudy's dream was finding Dragomir. Johann's goal was avenging his family, despite revenge being more of a curse, but hey, he at least had something to yearn for. But you..."

He unclasped her fingers from the emptied bottle, before she broke it in her grasp.

"What is your dream in life, sunshine?"

...

"I only wanted to go on living with whatever was given to me."

"That is no answer. You haven't found it yet. If all that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream, our lives are over. We are already dead, sunshine, walking corpses breathing on the remains of our hopes. But you, you still have a chance. You can still drift in the river of life. Do not waste it."

...

"My speeches are deeply inspiring."

"Where is Luke?"

"I haven't seen him since midday."

Confused.

"He's never been gone for so long."

"Maybe he is in his room doing whatever demons do in their free time. Kicking puppies, painting blasphemies on the walls... Oh wait, I forgot. It's Luke. He's probably baking pancakes and taking turns at doing the maids' hair."

"He is not in the manor."

Ignoring the numerous spasms, Tanya towed her leg on the chilly pavement.

"I am checking, nonetheless."

Bartholomew did not seem to hear her, picking up a book from her desk.

"Do mermaids really exist, or not?"

Rolling her eyes, Tanya closed the chamber door. Now she had to go to Luke's bedroom, which was situated in the servants' sleeping quarters.

Dreadfully.

It was the furthest from there.

...

Cursing and cussing under her breath, Tanya finally arrived, feeling as if she had hiked a mountain full of thorny shrubs. Entering the room, a white ball of fur assaulted her, sharp talons trying to tear and carve her face out. She grabbed it quickly before it was able to do any damage, holding it away from its nape; the cat's pupils glaring irately, pawing the air indignantly trying to catch her.

Toto the Maimer.

Luke had found it two years ago in the East End; a tiny kitten, shivering under the rain, looking even smaller than it already was. Due to his undying love for animals, he had taken it in, and Tanya had had nothing to say against it, as long as the Baroness did not see it.

But the frail kitten had soon started showing its claws, escalating into full hatred in no time.

_Of course he will be jealous of you. Don't you know, my princess?_

_You come first._

Still holding the now calmer cat, Tanya looked around her. The room was as it always had been; few furnitures, everything clean and spotless. She used to spend a lot of time there, until Anastassia had found out and scolded Luke harsher than any other time. A young lady should never be in her butler's bedroom. It was not only improper, but also very dangerous to her chastity.

She felt sick of the woman she had grown calling 'mother'.

Tanya headed to the small library. They mostly were books of lore on spirits and demonology, rituals and instructions on how to send evil entities away and calm angry ghosts. If only things were so simple as in popular belief.

Something grabbed her attention. Taking the book from its shelf, she read aloud the title written in bold letters.

"_Die fröhliche Wissenschaft_."

She remembered that it was Augustus who gave her this one, from his favorite German writer; something about could not waiting for the newest edition and considering it a birthday gift. Tanya had finished it in a single night, finding many of the philosopher's thoughts interesting; but, as any book read in such a short time, forgetting most of them afterwards. She'd given it to Luke to keep, lest Anastassia saw it. There must be no book in their house that was not from their printing company.

Snort.

Flipping its pages, she noticed many underlined quotations. So Luke had read and enjoyed it too apparently.

Upon reaching section 108, she stopped.

Tanya read the words again.

And again.

Unbelieving.

_Gott ist tot._

Both the book and the cat fell from her hold, either from shock or the ear-splitting scream that shook the entire manor.

Limping furiously, not even noticing the pain anymore; the distance she'd found so grueling at first now completed almost in a heartbeat. The servants immediately made her way, expressions ranging from incredulity to pitying; allowing her to take in the sight in front of her.

No.

_This is just a dream._

That was not possible.

_Just a dream. Wake up, damn it!_

But the bloodied hand that reached unseeing in her direction was very real.

"My... Princess..."

This time, she could not keep the tears from pouring forth.

...

**Author note:** This took me so long to finish ;_; I hope the short fight scene isn't too horrible.

Well, in the next chapter we'll finally learn everything regarding both Rudy and Johann and what Johann's plans are.

-The crab and its mother piece is actually a variant of one of Aesop's fables.

-The poem Bartholomew recites is 'A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky', from 'Through the Looking Glass' by Lewis Carroll.

-'All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.' is a quote from 'A Dream Within a Dream' by Edgar Allan Poe. Bartholomew is practically stating that if life is made of dreams, then those who don't dream can't say they have lived.

-The Gospel of Luke is the third and longest of the four Gospels. I actually named Luke before remembering this fact, and then found it perfect for the setting of the work. 'Halloway' instead I practically pulled out of nowhere.

-'_Die fröhliche Wissenschaft_' is the German title of Friedrich Nietzsche's 'The Gay Science', first published in 1882. The quote 'God is dead' first appears here, before being popularized later by 'Thus Spake Zarathustra'. The phrase is not used in its literal sense, albeit here it varies from how the characters themselves interpret it.

-'You come first.' is a reference from Richelle Mead's 'Vampire Academy' series. In the books, the exact quote is 'They come first.'

Thanks to everyone who reviewed or favorited, and thanks in advance to those who will do the same for this chapter.


	6. Chapter 5: Requiem of the autumn wind

**Disclaimer**: Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso.

**Chapter 5:**

**Requiem of the autumn wind**

The phone's loud ring resonated shortly, before the receiver was picked up by the ever dutiful butler of the Phantomhive household; pondering for a moment, on whom might be calling in such a late hour.

"Take the Earl and come here as fast as you can."

Well... This was certainly unexpected.

"Good evening to you too, Lady Chesterfell," perfectly polite as always. "I beg your pardon, but have all the clocks in your house stopped working?"

The hands of his own pocket watch signaled that it was well past midnight. The rude woman's request was not only outrageous, but also absolutely ridiculous. Had something suddenly unhinged in her brain?

"The young master is aslee-"

"Then wake him up."

Light scowl.

"Listen here, demon," he stopped tapping his foot. "Tatianna saved your master's precious life. You have an obligation. Take action on it."

...

Sebastian put the receiver down.

_I always return the favor, little mutt._

That he would come to regret his own words...

What a pain in the neck was the crossbreed becoming. The young master would not be pleased at all.

...

_While the stars that oversprinkle..._

"Is the sky pretty?"

The cold wind had now dried the tears, cheeks numb and eyes stinging; the knot too heavy to swallow.

_All the heavens, seem to twinkle..._

A lone star detached from the dark firmament, leaving a trail of milky dust behind. Disappearing, as if it had never been there.

_With a crystalline delight..._

Tanya held him tighter, his body resting against hers the only source of warmth in the gelid night. The smell of green tea and home tickled her nose, the sense of familiarity strong enough to lose herself in it. In her mind, Luke had always resembled a lighthouse; perpetually there, shining brightly, a pillar of safety and comfort whenever she needed him.

_Keeping time, time, time..._

Even then, when his light was slowly fading away, life slipping from his fingers like water.

"Very pretty," Tanya said, voice hoarse.

_In a sort of Runic rhyme..._

Luke's smile was heartbreaking. "Such a pity I cannot see it."

Her eyes closed painfully. The hand she wasn't clasping rose to caress her face.

"Please, my princess. How do you expect me to go in peace when I know that you will blame yourself?"

Him. Dying.

So surreal. So bizarre.

Like all of the things she had firmly believed had vanished in thin air right in front of her. Not a dream, from which she could wake up. Not a stifling nightmare. How was it that, in the end, she always managed to destroy what she most held dear?

"...You once asked me why I was more human than the others of my kind."

Tanya glanced down, remembering the moment of which he was speaking about; confused, as to why he was bringing that up now.

"That is because..."

A bird flapped its wings in a nearby tree, the motion shaking the bare branches.

"I was like you once. Halfdemon."

...

"I had a little sister. I loved her so much..."

Tanya stared ahead at the horizon, tears clouding her vision again.

"I sold my soul for her," straining to grasp at the last bits of consciousness. "I was not supposed to tell you this, but... I do not want to leave this world without letting you know."

A sob escaped, burying her face in his hair; allowing herself to weep, unable to care for the fact that they were not alone anymore.

"Tanya..." softly, still smiling. "Thank you for giving my sister back."

Luke finally drifted into obliviousness, mind wandering; unable to tell if the vividly painted sight in front of him was a distant memory or a dream. A rocky path weaving through high mountains. A small dog running around them. The eyes of a child, looking curiously at him.

_Marin?_

_Po, princesha ime?_

She hesitated. _Ti do të jesh vëllai im përgjithmonë, apo jo?_

He heaved her on his back, earning a happy giggle.

_Edhe më gjatë._

...

Tanya pressed a kiss to his temple. "Thank you... For everything."

Ciel watched as his hand fell lifelessly on the pavement; the color of its flesh slowly changing, black nails turning to talons. He had no more words to describe the abomination, the mass of scales and fur that she was clinging to and crying quietly. His mouth twisted unwillingly in disgust.

Judging by the Baron's expression, he was not the only one to feel that way.

He glanced at Sebastian, genuinely interested in his reaction. Ciel doubted even he had ever seen someone express such affection towards one of them in their infernal form.

But the butler was unreadable.

"To the fiend from hell, who was better than us sons of God. Cheers."

...

"Young master, would you mind going back inside with the Baron?"

"Good idea," Bartholomew tossed the bottle from the rooftop nonchalantly. "You can heal. Shall we go, little Earl?"

Sebastian waited until they had left, the elder man almost dragging the young master to the stairs. Extinguishing the candles, he walked slowly till he was but a few steps away; taking in how her shoulders shook soundlessly now and then.

"You won't resuscitate him like that."

"...Go away."

She was not going to make this easier, now was she?

"I pegged you smarter than this."

This time, she did not answer at all.

Sebastian seized her forcefully; before she could recover from the shock and try to struggle, struck her swiftly in the back of her neck. Tanya fell limp in his arms. He observed casually the numerous bandages she sported, and then glimpsed briefly at the other demon.

Grim.

"How was it...?" he murmured. "Ah, hail and farewell."

_Ave atque vale._

Another star's dying light stroke the sky.

...

"Have to tell..."

The first thing she knew was that her head was pounding.

"Not our place to..."

The voices were too loud, jarring her nerves and intensifying the ache. Her throat felt coarse and dry like straw; the taste of salt too bitter in her mouth.

"Comes without a price..."

Her body was stiff as a stick, frozen and tense in discomfort.

"Eye for an eye, a truth for a truth..."

Lids fluttering, her fingertips skimmed tentatively on the smooth surface.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, little Earl?"

Tanya blinked away the blur, meeting bright green orbs; a hint of emotion in their usual blankness.

"Are you awake now, Sleeping Beauty?" Fredric drawled.

She was laying on the sofa, head resting on her brother's lap.

"Too bad. Little Earl here was longing to be the prince who'd kiss you."

A faint snigger. A womanly grumble following soon after.

"Do you think this is the right time for jokes, Baron?" an embarrased snarl.

Tanya rose, clenching her forehead tightly. She felt as if she'd been hit with a bar of iron.

"Hm. I thought you would be dozing longer... My Lady."

...

She threw the contents of the offered glass of water in his face.

"Do that another time," Tanya told him, "and the next one will be filled with boiled urine."

"Tatianna!" to say the Baroness was scandalized was putting it mildly. "Your vulgarity is appalling!"

Sebastian wiped himself with a towel Fredric provided him, blatant amusement not irking her like it usually did. Tanya could not find it in her to even think of a few choice words for him. The only thing she wanted was going away from that suffocating place, to be by herself until she would have sorted everything out.

"I would be no worthy as a butler of the Phantomhive, if I would take offence to such a small antic from my Lady's part."

Until she would have made a decision.

"Cease your act," Anastassia said, disdainfully. "You have no one to fool here, brute."

_Luke._

Sharp pang.

There was no decision to make

Forgetting and forgiving had never been an option... To either of them.

"First of all, tell me what is happening."

Monotonously.

"Why are you even here, chihuahua?"

"I phoned the Earl."

Her attention focused at the Baroness.

"Really... Old age has not taken a toll only on your appearance. Now I also have to deal with the dwarf and his scarecrow."

Sebastian's pleasant expression dropped.

"Our sales have lowered significantly since rumours of the Watchdog being involved with our family," Anastassia said, forcibly ignoring her daughter's previous statement.

"Strange, that looks suspisciously like advertisement."

"And," she went on, "I was told yesterday how you helped him. I thought this would be the right moment for you and Earl Phantomhive to clear any misunderstanding."

Luke. It had been Luke who had told her. Even though she had no right to do so, the hag always had ordered him around as if he were a common servant; not frightened in the least by the mediocre creature, as she called him. Conveniently forgetting that by the end of the day, he was still a beast.

"Money is the only thing you care about, isn't it?"

"I-"

A hand rose, effectively silencing the noblewoman; disbelieving look, promptly ignored by her husband.

"No one here is in the mood for silly banters. Ain't it right, sunshine?"

Her lips moved to speak, but made no sound as she noticed the falcon standing outside the window. Stoic stance, holding something in its beak; a piece of thick, round meat.

_They gave it to me almost free, but I have no use for this beauty._

_You've told me you're a hunter._

_Its name is Brutus._

_Consider this... A birthday gift._

Unthinking, without even controlling her own movements; it barely took a second, the hallways flying behind her and she was outside. Violet eyes shining under the slowly paling sky, he was leaning against a wall, more complacent than ever.

"Hello, biscuit."

Tanya was on him in a moment, slamming his head; the whole structure of bricks cracking under the impact. Hurried footsteps shuffled on the grass, except those of the demon, who was already there. She may have been no match against him, but one of her own kind...

The yard of the manor was going to be his tomb.

"Well, well," Augustus' gaze slid from boy to butler. "So the letter we sent the Queen did work."

"For how much did you sell yourself, swine?"

"I didn't. You see, I'm always eager to join a cause that will benefit me."

Scoff.

"A cause. So Johann has indoctrinated you too into subservienence. Like a good, little worshiper."

His smile told otherwise. "Let's just say that he can be quite persuasive when he wants. But you know that, don't you?"

_Don't tell Rudy of this._

_He cannot understand. Not like you do._

She grit her teeth. "What is he striving for? He is not a revolutionary."

"After Dragonborn's death he had an epiphany," Augustus shrugged. "Something about 'eradicating them all'. You know how it goes. When you gaze into the abyss, it gazes back at you."

"He cannot cleanse hell."

"Oh, think so?" he bent his head as much as her grip allowed him, lips barely brushing hers. "He did kill one."

...

"The idea of gouging him was mine. Taking him away the chance to see his treasured princess for the last time was too good to let it pass.

Her hit was hard enough to make him vomit blood.

"Your letter. I read it," his tongue darted out to lick the liquid, dark shapes marring the fleshy muscle. "Poor boy. It took him to die so that he could have your heart."

Ciel looked on in astonishment as she punched him; the blow probably breaking the man's nose, wondering, just how far that girl was able to go. That day at his manor she told him she had tortured someone, but he hadn't believed her then. Now, however... He wouldn't put it past her if she cut his limbs off and salted his wounds.

Coldblooded.

Even Sebastian would show more emotion.

"I can see what they like in you," his eyes raked her body, not even exorting effort to talk. "However, I'm more for the feisty type. You're too much of a frigid ice bitch."

"Why the lake?" Ciel interrupted, getting as close as possible within a safety distance. "Why the bodies? Why attract so much attention?"

"A good friend will always stab you in the front," Augustus said.

The Earl cocked an eyebrow at her. Friends, was it? She really knew how to choose wisely.

"Where is he? Where is Johann?"

"Faraway from here, waiting for me."

"He will be waiting for a long time, then."

Maniacal laughter.

Everything around them seemed to still.

"If I'm not back by six thirty, an army of mercenaries will come here and raze everything to the ground. You can fight. But what about your family?"

Tanya's head turned barely, just enough to look at her brother.

"How much more guilt can you bear before shattering?"

...

"You're bluffing."

Augustus' smile widened. "Then spread my entrails for the crows to feast upon, and watch their blood redden the earth."

"He is right. Release him."

"Stay out of this, Ciel Phantomhive. You have no authority here."

"Sending your contractor after me won't do, Queen's doggie," he said, dismissive. "Johann will just slay him too."

Sebastian had never resembled a devil more than he did in that moment; fangs bared in deadly grin, glowing eyes dancing with hunger.

"Underestimating me like this... Can be fatal, halfbreed."

Ominuous, sinister, so similar to the first time they met; Tanya had to do remind herself once, twice, that it was not directed at her. Fear was not an option.

Nothing was an option. She would never be able to convince her mother to at least leave the manor for a few hours. The hag was too attached to anything material she owned. What was there left?

...

She let him go.

Augustus staggered for a moment before righting himself. Tanya stepped back, hands fisted, nails digging into her palms. The falcon dropped from the sky with a loud cry, flying past them to settle on his shoulder; beak still nipping at the white tissue.

Horrified.

An indigo iris stared right back at her.

The bird fell on the ground, feathers gliding in the air; a silver fork sticking out from its chest, palpitating heartbeat hushing forever.

Indifferently.

"Very annoying creature, indeed," Sebastian said.

"Johann won't be happy," Augustus kicked the lifeless animal away. "Don't bother searching for us. We're leaving the country till he's stabilized. He only sent me to give you a message."

Moving towards her, he bowed lightly; his words a whisper in her right ear.

"Johann says... For you, a thousand times over."

...

"Any reply?"

"I will be by your side, forevermore... In hell."

He touched a lock of her hair, bringing it close to inhale her scent.

"I'm craving to see the two of you eat each other alive. Until next time, biscuit."

And then he was gone.

...

The first rays of light shone the sky, marking the beginning of a new day.

Tanya removed the bandage from her forehead, thumb passing thoughtfully over it; mind reeling, envisioning other, better, easier times.

"I am going back inside to see how mother is faring. She said she was going to take care of any prying from the servants' part."

"Yes, go see how dear mamma is doing," the strip of clothing slipped from her grasp. "All this must've been very traumatic to her."

Fredric did not respond, blank countenance not giving away anything; clearing out of view leisurely. Ciel waited impatiently until he'd disappeared behind the entrance door, to move in front of her, determined and bent on learning absolutely everything.

"I believe you-"

"Johann's family was killed by a demon," breathing deeply. "Father, mother, elder sisters, even the staff. All dead in a single night. He wanted retribution. No matter what."

_My life is nothing to me._

_I will gladly give it away, it it means accomplishing my goal._

"Over a year ago, he thought he had finally found the right one. Decided to hold a summoning ritual. He told me of his plans and asked me to keep them a secret from Rudy, our other friend. He'd never agree on it."

His palms were sweating inside of his gloves.

"I did not agree either. I will not be a hypocrite and say that I feel sorry about the human sacrifices..."

_The younger the blood, the more powerful the demon will be._

"Compassion has been one of the human emotions I have never been able to grasp well. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean I cannot distinguish what is right, from what is incredibly, stupidly wrong."

_Where did you find him?_

_An orphan. No one will miss him. No one, ever misses us._

The Earl had lowered his head, queasy and perturbed; hand clutching the fabric of his pants. Disconcerted, Tanya unintentionally looked at the butler a few feet away from them. That was enough for her to make a partial deduction.

Cultists were disliked by both halfdemons, considering them ignorants who tried to mingle with higher beings they did not understand; and demons, bothered by their sometimes successful rituals and extremely disinterested in low quality souls. But by human standarts, they were worse than the monsters they deified.

By then, she had no doubt how the two of them had bargained.

"If this is too much for you..."

"Continue."

"You seem-"

"I said, continue!"

...

"Shout at me another time, and I will hang you upside down from a tree only in your underwear."

A single eye narrowed at her.

"As I was saying... I didn't agree. Johann convinced me, in the end, nonetheless... I still was unable to keep my mouth shut."

_He wants to do what? That-That... If that jerkass thinks I'm going to let him do this, he's crazy!_

"We went to the place were the ritual was being held. The demon was not the one he had been looking for. Rudy was furious, though. He charged on Johann and started beating him senseless," at the look he gave her she shrugged. "That was the kind of friendship the two of them had."

_He was just an innocent, you bastard!_

_What's happening to you? This isn't the Johann I know!_

"Then... The demon noticed me."

"I daresay, things became quite ugly from that point on," Sebastian said.

_You do have something to offer me after all..._

"What do you mean?" Ciel turned briefly at him.

_Her._

"So you know him too. "

"It is difficult not to."

Ciel glared heatedly at both of them.

"I beg your pardon, young master. I did not mean to leave you out of important conversations like a common, bratty child."

...

"Sebastian."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Shut the hell up. And you," he directed his attention at her again. "Give me an explanation."

"Because of my father," Tanya simply said.

"Your fath-"

...

"Your real father."

Somewhere down the road, Ciel had finally put two and two together, much to his dismay, and realized what had always been there in front of his eye. Without dwelling on it anymore, he dismissed the thoughts; irrelevant to his duty as the Watchdog, too personal for him to know. She seemed aware of this, judging by the twitching of the corner of her mouth.

"Took you a while, didn't it? Really, little Earl. Do you even know how babies are made?"

Sebastian chuckled.

Ciel's face suddenly felt very, very hot. He did not doubt he was as red as a tomato.

"Are you done with ridiculing me? Then go on with your story."

"There is not much to tell. That demon... Would not leave. Rudy..."

_Remember that technique I told you about the other day? The one Dragomir ordered me to never, ever use?_

_No. No. No, Rudy, please don-_

_I'm sorry, Tanya._

"Blew himself up along with him."

_We'll go down together, motherfucker!_

She seemed miles away. "Even their ashes burnt to nothingness."

...

Awkwardly.

"Going that far to protect you... Because... The two of you..."

"...I never gave him a chance."

"What about the other one?"

Tanya squinted at the clouds, absentmindedly.

"Johann lost his sword arm during the fight. When I woke up after the explosion he had left. I hadn't heard of him until recently."

"What are the reasons behind his actions? Why kill your butler? Why threaten you?"

Before turning to dust, Rudy had looked at her for a last time. Bittersweet smile, eyes shining with sorrow; mouth forming the words the wind would not be able to carry to her.

_I love you._

"I saw my whole world fall apart and all I could do was stare blankly," she said. "To Johann, it must have been endlessly worse. You are perfectly able to make any conclusion by yourself now."

...

Tanya followed the trail of his gaze to her leg, the one she'd hurt the previous day. It had healed completely, faint scars on pale skin and black swirls. The Earl reached behind his head, pulling one string of the patch; coming undone, the mark of covenant gleaming against a lavender backdrop.

"Well, there is a place where it would had hurt mor-"

"I lost everything. Family. Honor. Dignity. I will not rest till the day for those who caused my humiliation, to be at my feet. Begging in despair. Revenge... Is all I have left."

An extended hand.

A scene eerily similar from a long, long time ago.

"Let's call it... A truce."

_Friends?_

...

"Let it be a truce, then."

_Friends._

Whereas Rudy had beamed brightly, Ciel Phantomhive merely acknowledged with a nod. Somehow, she knew that single gesture meant much more from his part.

He cleared his throat. "Well, I shall take my leave then."

"Put your pirate accessory back first, or you will give people heart attacks with that evil, soulless stare."

The evil, soulless stare was directed at her with quite the glower, as Sebastian moved to tie the black laces. Tanya thought it deserved a remark, probably something on the Earl's incompetence, if it weren't that she herself was incapable too of completing said task.

"Young master, would it be impertinent of me asking for you to wait at the front entrance? I have something I need to finish here first."

Ciel regarded him curtly. "...Do as you wish."

The alarming feeling was soon replaced with disbelief, as she gaped at the object that he had been keeping inside of his coat. Speechless, did not even begin covering it.

"I apologize, but I did not have a more suitable container."

...

Bare fingers brushed gloved ones, as she took hold of the jar; careful touch, afraid that it would break under the slightest pressure. Dark sand enclosed inside of glinting glass, she felt like crying over again.

"I assume you will keep it."

Sometimes, you had to be strong and endure, cling strongly to any strand of remained hope; stubbornly, without giving up, refusing to turn your back to the past.

And sometimes... You just had to let go.

"He has been bound to me for very long. His freedom is well deserved."

Wary.

"How come?"

"Consider it... My own peace offering."

Sebastian suddenly lowered to her eye level, deadly serious; all traces of emotion dispersed like vapor.

"And put an end to the epithets. It's degrading and childish. Especially your latest invention."

...

He straightened, satisfied smile showing itself once more.

"My young master has given me a name, after all."

Dumbfounded.

"It is only natural for a Lady when speaking to a butler."

Tanya wanted to tell him that natural in their case, meant her stabbing him repeteatedly and then running for her life as fast as she could; that when someone terrorized and then beat you, there was nothing else you wanted to do beside staying as far from them as possible.

Whatever the demon was aiming by acting this way, could not be anything good. For the moment though, she decided to comply.

"All right then... Sebastian."

Obtuse, barbaric, absolutely aggravating scarecrow.

Grimace.

"Thank you."

There. She had thanked him. Tanya was half waiting for the earth to open and swallow her whole for this horrible sin. Being indebted to the Earl was ghastly, but being indebted to the demon... Was another thing altogether.

Sebastian tilted his head at her, incredibly entertained.

...

He was not serious, was he?

"Well?"

...

Holding the jar dearly to her chest, she put her other hand in his, ready to pull back if he tried to crush her bones. His grip was both gentle and firm, lips soft against her skin. Although all Tanya felt in that moment was a dreadful, chilling sensation; heart skipping a beat as red eyes rose to meet hers.

"You're welcome, my Lady."

Gulp.

...

The back of her hand still tingled minutes after he had left.

The faint noises of the servants working faded completely as she went up the stairs. Her chambers were calm and warm, curtains drawn, fire blazing from the hearth in the darkness. She put the jar on the bedside table and reached for the drawer, taking out the letter and the wooden chest she guarded there.

_It took him to die so that he could have your heart._

So many people had read it, people who were not even supposed to know about its existence. The servant copying her handwriting. Augustus. Johann, probably. Grumpy, also, the day she had visited his place. And yet, he had seemed clueless regarding Rudy.

Unless that traitorous worm had lied to mess with her head.

Tanya did not know what was written in there and she would never know.

The white paper crippled and darknened admist the licking flames, the cracking akin to a wail of mourning. She sat down on the floor tiredly, back resting against the bed. The lid of the small box in her lap flipped open, taking out the necklace kept in there; small blue spheres ornating the cross. It had belonged to Rudy.

The only halfdemon she had ever met, who could still claim to not have lost his faith in God.

Right before telling her to live a long and happy life, he had put it around her neck. Going, without regretting, to end his own.

Reaching to set it next to the jar, she took the only other object saved in the chest. A photograph, from two years ago of the three of them. Of her and the boys. She had always thought of them as her boys. Flaws and imperfections and deepest secrets, accepting each other for what they were instead of what they were not.

The picture under her fingertips was achingly familiar. Rudy's strong arms around their shoulders; the boy who would always sneak into her room and eat her dinner. Johann's brown hair, sticking up weirdly, courtesy of herself; the boy who would stroll with her at night, arms linked, sharing cigarettes and their sleeplessness. Luke, standing behind the camera, yelling at them to stay still for a moment; the demon whose scoldings were too fond and goofy to be taken seriously.

Her smile. One of those she had forgotten how they were done anymore.

She missed everything too much.

A limpid drop fell on the surface.

Glowing golden green eyes stared at her from the shadows; silently, unblinking, grieving.

_Revenge... Is all I have left._

Revenge was all they had.

"His death will not go unpunished."

"Do you know what the implications of that statement are, sunshine?"

Bartholomew entered the room, suddenly nothing but what he really was; a very old man, body shrinked by years of addiction, countless wrinkles weighting his features.

Tanya rose to her feet.

_Our souls are one._

_Whether we rise or fall._

...

"We will fall together. That is my only oath."

...

The Baron picked up the cat, hissing and struggling until he let it go to run and hide under the bed. Gazing over at the fireplace, he watched the photograph being consumed; knowing, that something had forever withered, drifting to faraway lands, to never return anymore.

Defeated.

"When I told you to find a dream, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

...He had lost her too.

...

Imposing presence.

An air of challenge, as if to deny his previous claim.

"So you are saying the girl is innocent?"

Standing on one knee, stance respectful and submissive; the faithful Watchdog was giving his report to her Highness, a tale woven carefully with half truths and deceit. His loyalties may have lied with the Queen, but his debt bound him mercilessly.

"Tatianna Chesterfell is completely free from guilt. The only culprit... Was her butler."

Ciel Phantomhive was not someone who did not repay in kind.

"He was taken care of. That individual will not be anymore a danger to her Majesty's reign."

...

Smile.

_Score._

...

The slippery stones were damp against the thick material of her cloth, water rushing furiously in a cascade, valley hidden admist the dense forest. A place so uncanny, shrouded in fog and peculiarity, brimming with life.

A grave.

_Nameless here for evermore._

The ashes scattered along with the crushed cross, whirling in midair to then disappear; everything over in a moment, not even the blink of an eye. All ended too soon. She did not even register it, until there was nothing else left besides the empty jar.

Freeing them. And herself, somehow.

Only to be chained to a curse.

Tanya glanced over the body of water, the orange haired demon standing on a particulary sharp rock. She had been wondering how much time it would take him to find her.

"How nice of him worrying enough to send his personal secretary. Because, I can understand he is very busy devouring the souls he does not even raise a finger to gain."

Slit, pink eyes stared back at her bored.

"If you're done, we can start discussing the reason I had to come from the other part of the world for that insolent face of yours."

She already knew what it was.

"I do not want another butler."

No one, ever, could replace Luke.

He had been closer to her than anyone of her same flesh and blood had. It was simply unacceptable. If her father thought he could just send someone else in his place, she would do the unthinkable; tamper with the bargain, committing a sacrilege. Nothing was holier than a sealed pact to them.

But apparently she would not need to go that far.

"The Boss only wants to inform you that he has increased the amount of guards around the property."

Tanya sometimes doubted the sanity of these demons, who called the will-o'-the-wisps 'guards'. The tiny creatures were lucky enough if they did not become a frog's next meal.

Irritatedly.

"Don't you think any of us vassals are bouncing with happiness to be your sidekicks. That Faustian deal is one that doesn't need a contractor. We'd be practically useless."

"Aren't you already?"

Glower.

"Being the Boss' kid does not give you the right to bitch me around."

Oh, it did. Both of them knew it. If she would order him to shove a handful of scorpions inside of his pants, Jalil would be compelled to just do so.

"Also, the Boss wants me to tell you not to associate yourself with that demon anymore. You know whom I am talking about."

Sebastian. He was referring to Sebastian. He had said he knew her father, and now she wondered just what the relations between them were. Tanya had never met him in person, but judging by Jalil's tone, and the scarecrow's annoying personality, it was not that hard to guess.

Nevertheless, she did not like in the least being told what to do.

"Your Boss must come to terms with the fact that he cannot bitch me around like the lot of you. If I want to spend time with him..."

Which she really didn't.

"Then I will. And I am not going to take into consideration anyone's opinion. Am I clear enough, you rotten pumpkin-headed moron?"

...

Unimpressed.

"Can't wait to divulge that to him."

Either that was a very pathetic attempt at being sarcastic, or an implied threat at her. Tanya really did not care whichever it was. She found it hard being afraid of someone whom could even look like a gnome for all she knew, despite having to acknowledge his power and influence.

Enough to make every demon want to cut her up in pieces because of her heritage.

"If you need me, draw a pentagram with your blood on the ground. I will be summoned to your location. Don't be a greater nuissance than you already are," showing his left hand, insinuation clear. "Actually, refrain from ringing at all if you can."

...

"You were halfblood once too, weren't you?"

Jalil stopped, back at her.

"Selling your soul? Is that what it takes?"

If his voice was any indication, that was a topic she was not welcomed at all bringing up.

"Do not ask questions which answers you may not like."

...

Walking through the moss covered barks of the fir trees, Tanya pondered, just how much worth their mortality had.

Demons with human souls. That was all they were without the item which all their weaknesses steamed from; small fragments of humanity gone, the lightest shade of morals they could perceive being darkest gray. And yet, she did not want to become the same as those whom they originated from; devoted to achieving the only thing they did not have, to satiate their hunger, to try and feel what they had been denied to.

The worse of punishments was understanding the value of something only after losing it.

She knew all too well that pain.

She did not want to be inflicted with it again.

...

Leaves and flowers swimming in the breeze, nonsensical blabbering sung in a soft chant; something touched her cheek, almost as in a gentle caress.

_Only because it is impossible to see something with your eyes, it does not mean it is not present, my princess._

"You were right, Rudy."

The pink petal stained her fingertips.

"Love isn't just a human privilege."

...

**Author note: **Two weeks for this, and it isn't even that long... I apologize to all those who actually wait for this story's updates. In the next chapter we finally enter canon territory.

-'While the stars that oversprinkle / All the heavens, seem to twinkle / With a crystalline delight; / Keeping time, time, time / In a sort of Runic rhyme' is from Edgar Alla Poe's poem 'The Bells'. Also, 'Nameless here for evermore.' is from 'The Raven'.

-The words Luke thinks of before dying are actually in Albanian, my own native language. The English translation of the conversation that ensues is this:

_Marin?_

_Yes, my princess?_

_You will be my brother forever, won't you?_

_Even longer._

I thought it would be better if I wrote it like this, since it all was happening inside of his mind, and we read the scene from his point of view. Whether it was a memory and the girl is actually his sister, or it was a dream and the girl is Tanya, is better left ambiguous, since the character himself does not know. So, Luke is Albanian (I really couldn't resist) and his real name when he was a half-demon was Marin. We will learn more of his past later.

-Demons turning into their true forms when they die has not been shown in canon until now (and I doubt it ever will), but nonetheless, it was an idea which I could not ignore.

-As mentioned in chapter three, '_Ave atque vale_' is from the Roman poet Callutus' elegy 'Callutus 101'.

-'When you gaze into the abyss, it gazes back at you.' is a variant of the phrase from Nietzsche's 'Thus Spake Zarathustra'. By now, we know that Augustus is a fan of him, so it is not strange hearing him quoting his favorite writer now and then.

-Also, 'A good friend will always stab you in the front.' is an Oscar Wilde citation.

-I have previously stated that it would be eventually revealed why Tanya used such a foul language, which was very uncommon in the Victorian society, enough to ostracize her for it alone. She spent a lot of time with both Rudy and Johann, and by now we have already seen in one-liner flashback what Rudy's manners were. So it is normal for her to be influenced from her friends.

-'For you, a thousand times over.' is a quote from Khaled Hosseini's novel 'The Kite Runner'. Which is really heartbreaking and all and deserves to be read by everyone.

-Tanya's deduction that Ciel was used as a ritual sacrifice may come across as the usual 'author magically makes the OC know everything', but in fact it is very logic for her to think so. Ciel, who is usually cold and reserved, almost losing it from what she said... It was really easy for Tanya to see what was in front of her.

-Sebastian asks Tanya whether she would keep Luke's ashes, mostly because in Victorian times people would save a lot of belongings of their loved ones who had passed away. It was very common even conserving locks of their hair.

Thanks to all those who favorited and reviewed, and thanks in advance to all those who will do the same for this chapter. A specials thanks goes to belledubois, whose reviews are always golden, and Multifaceted Melancholic, for the very kind words.


	7. Chapter 6: Snowy wish

**Disclaimer**: Kuroshitsuji belongs to Yana Toboso.

**Chapter 6:**

**Snowy wish**

"Let's all party today!"

"Free wine, free wine!"

"Happy birthday to you..."

The loud clapping and sung words of well-wishing slowly faded to faint noises. The kitchen was unlit, dampness hanging in the air. Reaching for the cupboard, Sebastian couldn't help it but bemoan a little.

"Oh, my..."

He placed the dessert on the counter, musing to himself on the uselessness of his small effort.

"Looks like the cake that I prepared will go to waste."

An image flickered in his mind. A fleeting idea, yet enough.

His lips quirked.

"...Or maybe not."

...

The first snowflake melted in the palm of her hand. Others followed in a silent procession, a soft blanket soon covering the earth. She drew the shawl tighter around her shoulders, chill penetrating the heavy fabric of the dress.

A month.

No one to berate her on anything unlady-like. No one to wake her up from the nightmares anymore.

He was in them now. Bleeding and crawling and wailing, his cry one of incitement for death. One night she'd woken up cradled in her mother's arms, hot tears rolling unrestrainedly; the quiet tune of a lullaby echoing in her ears. Next morning, both had pretended nothing ever happened.

She felt so...

Lonely.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word..."

She had forgotten how much loneliness hurt.

"Mama's going to buy you a mockingbird..."

Her head snapped in his direction a second before she heard his voice.

"You are horribly off-key."

A feeling of uneasiness settled in the pit of her stomach. No matter how much words of peace and agreement were spoken, it would take time before getting to used to him and everything that regarded him.

"You look more stupid than usual," Tanya remarked.

Sebastian frowned lightly, hand moving to disarrange his slicked back hair.

"Trying to copy Tanaka's style?"

Sitting on the thick branch, feet slightly dangling, Tanya found that being at his eye-level made him less intimidating. Somehow. At least she didn't have to crane her neck when talking to him. Not that she wanted to have anything to do with him in first place. The only good thing of the last month had been not meeting them.

"How come you're not at the party?"

This period Anastassia was busy throwing receptions and festivities like there was no tomorrow. The family her elder sister had married into had decided to spent Christmas in England, residing at the Chesterfell manor. The Baroness now had a sound reason, despite never having needed one. Tanya had lost the count of events that took place in the mansion yearly. And none of them were for her, of course. Not even once a year.

"I hope that was a rhetorical question."

She wondered why anything that came out of her mouth seemed to amuse him immensely.

"Simply out of curiosity, how is your absence explained?"

"Mostly I'm either sick or abroad," shrugging. "The servants are paid extra money to keep their mouths shut."

The last part was spit out with quite the disdain. Ah, that explained a lot of things.

"Why are you here?"

Tanya blinked at the patisserie box dropped in her lap. Sebastian removed the cover, the sight of an exquisite layered cake greeting her; meticulous writing decorating the top.

"How did you know it's my bir-" she blurted out without thinking, and then realized it. "Oh."

He looked surprized as well.

"What a coincidence. Sharing the same birth date with the young master."

Three-hundred-and-sixty-five days, and he had to be born exactly in the same as hers. Go figure.

"How old is he now? Eleven?"

"Thirteen."

"Wow. He must feel like a real man. Why did you bring this to me?"

"The servants made the young master another cake," was that complain in his tone? "I decided it'd be better letting you have it. After all, you enjoy the food I prepare."

Annoyed stare.

"...You have spit on it, haven't you?"

Cryptic smile, offering her a fork. "Why don't you try it and see for yourself?"

She eyed the utensil warily.

"I assume you clean these after using them to impale people to death."

"Certainly. What kind of butler does my Lady think I am?"

That was better left unanswered.

Tasting the sweet cream, Tanya thought it was infinitely better than any other dessert she'd ever had. That morning's pumpkin cake was like baked mud in comparison. She couldn't deny being slightly jealous of grumpy. Not that she'd ever admit it aloud. No, first she'd rather dive in a pool full of spiders.

"Is it good?"

Tanya averted her gaze, rosy hue in her cheeks deepening.

"You know it is. Stop gloating."

He slid the glove off his left hand.

It took all her willpower to keep from flinching when it reached to her lap.

"It's really hard for me to comprehend..." licking the chocolate from his fingers, "How you can call this delicious."

A will-o'-the-wisp suddenly flew in front of her nose. It hovered there, floating from side to side, casting a pale bluish glow. It wasn't hard imagining that if the tiny thing had eyes, they probably were glaring at her disapprovingly.

That was plain ridiculous.

"Yes, because we all know that children's souls are the most succulent of all," she flicked the shiny creature away, sending it flying with a very, very low indignated screech. "I like spicy food more."

Sebastian's eyes flickered for a moment in the will-o'-the-wisp's direction, seemingly mulling over something. Before he could say anything, footsteps padding on the cobblestone reached their ears; three heartbeats, gaslight illuminating the snowy darkness.

Speaking of children's souls...

"Weren't you supposed to rest?" Tanya said when they were close.

Tall and willowy, enormous bump showing the last stages of pregnancy; Amelia cast a curious look at the two of them, soft smile lighting up the otherwise drawn features.

"I think I have rested enough. Besides, Mirabelle really wanted to see the pond."

Big hazel eyes were looking at her shyly from behind her elder sister's gown. Mirabelle was the youngest of three daughters, product of a marriage arranged with much care from the Baroness. The hag probably considered marrying Amelia to the fourty-years-old Frenchman the biggest achivement of her life.

Tanya didn't like Pierre. At all. Cordiality and politeness he may have had, but the fact that he treated his wife as if she were a baby-popping machinery didn't exactly go well with her. It was a known fact that she was going to give birth until he would have a male heir under his roof. What irked Tanya the most, was that she could do nothing about it.

"Aren't you introducing us to the gentleman?"

Weary sigh.

"My sister, Comtesse Amelia Dupont, and her daughter, Mirabelle Dupont."

He bowed lightly. "Sebastian Michaelis, at your service."

Tanya wondered why those who named the demons seemed to be unable resisting the lame temptation of making some sort of religious innuendo. In her opinion, it would've suited him better being named Dick.

"Mirabelle," she nudged her daughter gently. "_Rendre hommage à la monsieur._"

The dark-haired girl curtsied, and then pronounced in French the formula they probably had taught her since she was in her mother's womb. Even at two or three or whatever her age was, she had already been molded into the perfect little lady.

And then she hurried behind her mother's skirts again. Children didn't like Tanya, and the feeling was mutual.

He tilted his head towards Mirabelle. "_Je suis enchanté de faire votre connaissance._"

Even his accent was perfect. Not that she had any doubt about that. He probably could even speak Zulu and sound like that was the only thing he had been doing during all his life.

"This is quite a coincidence, Mister Michaelis," Tanya just knew she wasn't going to like this. "Actually, Sébastien is the name of my yet unborn son."

Snap.

"What? No it isn't."

Amelia was mildly startled. "Of course it is. I told you yesterday. You don't remember?"

"No. No, I don't. You didn't tell me."

"I did. In the library. You even approved of it. Said it was a very beautiful name."

The demon's amusement was almost tangible by this point. What was wrong with these people, ruining a poor child's life by giving him the name of the most abominable scarecrow in existence?

"I was reading. You know I won't pay attention even if you say that it's raining hedgehogs. Besides, you cannot be sure it will be male. It may even be another girl, for that matter."

"It'll be a boy."

"There is no way for you to k-"

"I just know."

"But-"

"It will. I am certain."

There was something strange about the way her green eyes, usually soft and full of life, were vacant; as if drained completely. Tanya did not feel like insisting anymore.

"Well," resembling more her normal self, "are you a guest from this evening, Mister Michaelis?"

"No, Lady Dupont. I am simply... One hell of a butler."

Tanya choked on the forkful she was munching.

...

"Are you all right, my Lady?" he patted her back harder than necessary.

She pushed his hand away angrily, still coughing.

"He is the contractor of someone I know."

"Ah... I understand," Amelia glimpsed subtly at the mark blacking the the ivory skin.

"And he is just about to leave. His master probably needs him."

Sebastian put his glove back on. "Truthfully, I should be going. The young master's bedtime is nearing."

_Yes, go tuck grumpy in bed, and read him a fairytale or something. Maybe even a goodnight kiss._

She shook her head to get rid of the disturbing image.

"It was a pleasure making your acquaitance."

"The pleasure was mine, Lady Dupont. _Petite dame._"

Mirabelle blushed when he kissed the back of her hand. Really. Was she the only one immune to his fake charm and sparkly smiles?

"My Lady..."

Tanya gave him a look which clearly meant, _Do not even try._ Sebastian was unfazed.

"I was simply going to tell you to enjoy your meal. _Au revoir,_ _Dames._"

...

Sebastian caught between his fingers the fork thrown in his direction. He barely turned his head, the hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth; red eyes glowing like flaming embers in the shadows.

"Keep it."

Stopping the silverware easily the last second before it pierced her forehead, she watched him retreat, darkness swallowing him whole. That demon confused her. No matter how much she tried, she simply could not understand the purpose behind his actions.

She exhaled deeply when his presence finally disappeared from her senses.

"He is very handsome."

Tanya hopped down from the tree branch.

"I have yet to see a demon who isn't. And," somewhat snidely, "stop playing 'happy matchmaker'. I already have enough of Anastassia. I don't need you too."

_Especially not with Mister Pun._

Shudder.

Amelia walked in stride next to her. "Mother is only worried for you. You are nineteen now."

She hadn't told her sister that she would not live long enough; that her husband would be a cold grave, the only thing thriving in her womb worms and dirt... For eternity. The taste of sugar in her tongue was suddenly too bitter.

"I want to ask you something. Do you promise me you will not be angry?"

Arching her eyebrows. "Yes, I promise."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Do you swear that-"

Glower.

"All right. If you had known Rudy would die, would you have given him an opportunity?"

...

"You promised," Amelia reminded her.

Dryly.

"I am not that mediocre. Had I known, I wouldn't had let it happen. Not thrown myself at him."

"And why is that?"

She remembered telling Rudy they were beings devoid of love. That his feelings were just an infatuation, that he was mistaken; he should've instead gone to a brothel and released his frustrations and not disrupt the relationship they had for such an idiocy.

Even now that she had accepted that indeed, they were only half-demons, that the human souls gave them the ability to love...

"I could not return his affections the way he wanted me to."

"That is why you have to find someone."

Tanya was confused as to how what she said brought her sister to that conclusion. Pregnancy also had a heavy influence on rationality, apparently.

"Someone who can make your heart flutter each time you see them. Someone who can make you happy."

"You sound like one of those sappy romance novels."

The arm around her shoulders was warm and reassuring. Had she been weaker, she would've asked for a hug.

"I didn't get the chance. I do not want you to suffer too."

"_Maman!_"

Amelia's two other daughters were standing at the threeshold of the back entrance door, waving at them. The eldest, Lisette, held Toto in her arms, her favorite pranking target. He was struggling desperately, almost flying the distance between them to jump on her chest seeking protection.

The cat's usually pristine fur varied in colors between pink and green, heavy eyeshadow darkening the space around his eyes; mouth reddened in a creepy smile, he had never seemed so miserable.

Tanya couldn't keep down a short chortle, to which Toto hissed furiously.

"You are so damn ugly."

Amelia winced at the sorry sight. "I apologize. I will tell her not to do anything like this another time. I know the importance it has for you."

She would have flung the little beast outside the window at the first chance she'd had, if he had not been Luke's cat. Remembering how much he had cared for Toto, and how he had nursed the kitten back to health with devotion, she simply couldn't bring herself to harm it. Not even let it go. He was so spoiled he probably wouldn't be able to live in the wild.

Or perhaps it was just that the cat was a strong, last reminder. He even smelled faintly like him.

No, he just smelled of fish. It was her imagination searching for what she couldn't reach, even in places where they weren't. When had everything become so unattainable?

Amelia and the two girls entered inside, scolding picked up by her hearing. Lisette pretended to be ashamed, but as soon as her mother turned to the other side, she looked smugly at Tanya and mouthed at her an insult that would've left Rudy speechless.

_That little b-_

The youngest girl strolled slowly past her, small feet pushing the snow where it had begun building up. Tanya blew tiredly at the air.

"Mirabelle."

Timidly. "_Oui?_"

She extended her the patisserie box. "_Bon appétit._"

The girl blinked, index finger hesitatingly pointing at herself in a questioning gesture. Tanya nodded. Brightening, she accepted it eagerly, all of her shyness suddenly gone. And then she hugged her as best as she could, head not even reaching her waist. Toto almost fell from her hold in her astonishment.

"_Merci tante!_"

...

Another snowflake melted in the palm of her hand.

"I am not your aunt, stupid girl."

Grabbing Toto tighter, the cat mewoed unhappily.

"Let's go wash you, shall we?"

...

Flipping the newspaper close, Ciel skimmed once more the headlines. The strange cases of the anglo-indians would soon require his intervention as it seemed. Those Yard bobbies could't resolve anything by themselves. How pathetic.

His single eye narrowed in thoughtfulness, observing Sebastian carefully as he refilled the cup of hot tea.

"You won't tell me where you went last night?"

The butler stood next to him, polite smile plainly fake.

"Is it really relevant to the young master knowing?"

Him skirting around the question was not appreciated.

"It is."

Their gazes locked challengingly.

...

"I was at the Chesterfell manor."

The Earl almost spilled the scalding liquid on his breakfast.

"You what?! What was your reason for going there?"

He had given his word to that insolent girl. If this damn butler suddenly started having a penchant for molestation, he would have to order him explicitly to stay the hell away from that house. Ciel Phantomhive did not want to have anything to do with her. Whatever had happened, now was in the past.

"I gave the Miss the cake I had prepared in advance for the young master's birthday," Sebastian answered.

"What? Why did you do that?"

"She enjoys my desserts."

Was this demon mocking him?

"No, idiot. What made you give the cake to her?"

"It would be a waste of resources throwing away food, when there are people in the world that cannot afford even bread."

He was definitely mocking him.

"Apparently, it was the Miss' birthday too the previous day."

That was unexpected. Not that Ciel cared much for things like these, but it would've been better if they didn't share the same birth date. Matter of factly, best was not sharing anything with her.

The heap of objects on the table in the corner grabbed his attention. They were all company products from last season that had been sent to him to decide whether they would be manufactered again, or dropped in favor of new prototypes.

Smirk.

He didn't want to have anything to do with her.

Nonetheless, a little birthday present wouldn't hurt anybody.

...

Pink eyes watched with disinterest the mold-covered dank walls of the tavern. The place was poorly lit, a very unpleasant stench of alcohol and vomit stinking the air. The secluded table he'd chosen was good to keep away from any unwanted attention.

Jalil was losing his patience. If that pitiful excuse for a human that called himself a Baron did not show up soon...

Bartholomew dropped in the seat in front of him, bringing a scent of cold snow and freshness. Rubbing his hands to warm them, he did a double take at the demon.

"What are you doing? Turn those beacons off."

Impassively, he did what he was told; warm brown irises replacing infernal ones.

Toothy grin. "See? Your eyes are prettier this way."

Scathingly.

"Don't waste my time. Instead, what I would like to know, is why Ciel Phantomhive's contractor cannot seem to stay away from the manor. Yesterday was the fourth time the sentinels reported his presence inside of the perimeter."

Now that Luke was no more, the Baron would have to keep in touch regularly with Jalil, something which he was not much keen on. The distance he had to travel from the place of his contract to England made him somewhat moody; doubling his ability of being a first-rate ass.

"No idea. He likes the scenery, perhaps?"

Bartholomew gestured at the scantily dressed waitress, shouting the brands of three different alcoholic beverages. He had chosen the tavern because, well, first was the obvious reason; the second being the impossibility of meeting at the mansion with Tanya all day long there, creeping on everyone like a ghost.

"I am not joking."

The elder man pursed his lips at the threatening tone.

"The Boss has many enemies. And the two of them aren't on good terms. He poses a danger."

He did not doubt the demon wasn't in 'good terms', as Jalil put it, with all of hell. He was able to piss off anyone within a mile radius without even opening his mouth. How his own subordinates were able to bear him, was beyond his understanding.

The waitress approached them, lingering longer than necessary after pouring the drinks.

"With an attitude like that," Bartholomew said at his disgusted expression after she finally left, "you are never going to get laid."

He ignored the statement. "The Boss is not happy with this situation."

Green eyes rolled contemptuously.

"Your Boss is never happy. 'Let her spend some time with other half-bloods, it's good for her', he said," sipping directly from the bottle. "Good for her? It was a tragedy! Who else must die for him to step in and put an end to this madness?"

"He won't do that."

"Is he busy doing what? Vacationing in Hell's sunniest beaches? Did you tell him what she plans to do?"

Without missing a beat. "Of course I did."

"And?"

"It is nothing to worry about. She isn't strong enough to take on Johann von Sternberg."

"Not to worry," the Baron took the abandoned glass in front of Jalil, "certainly. He conveniently forgets the true issue here. If he cared enough for his own daughter to make me sell my soul, then he should care to stop that suicide mission of hers. But surely he is not interested if he has nothing to gain. Why should he?"

Some of the coins rolled, falling from the table.

"I will let you know when I have news."

"Your clock is tickling, Bartholomew Chesterfell," his orbs glowed once more. "Your time is expiring."

Wryly.

"Tell me something I don't know."

Jalil watched him disappear under the falling snow, a grey shadow becoming smaller and smaller. The demon picked up the bottle, tasting the few drops of bitter liquid that had remained. A black-nailed finger moved to the window, tracing the shape of a number on the steamy glass.

He had less than a year.

...

A white, very plushy Funtom bear, with a blue heart-shaped mark on its stomach, awaited on her bed, resting against a pillow. Tanya unfolded the small letter attached to its leg, the contents making her tear the paper to pieces very slowly; imagining, it was Ciel Phantomhive's hair instead.

If she had a good side, that definitely wasn't the way to get on it.

Tanya fell on her back on the mattress, holding the bear tightly. Not that she liked it or something.

Her lids closed, relishing in the softness of the toy. Past birthdays came to her mind, as far as her memory went. They were no more happy or sad, only bittersweet; stirring together mournfully. A particular one from her remote childhood, one she had almost forgotten, came back vividly. Luke, covered in flour, probably his very first attempt at cooking something; beaming, telling her to make a wish, and then blow at the candles.

Now she had no wishes. Only miracles to hope for.

Miracles did not happen. Not to them. Not to her.

Perhaps... There was one, just one.

...

_Make a wish, my princess._

...

_I don't want to be alone anymore._

...

**Author note: **This chapter is the shortest yet, but it serves to lead to the events of the next one (and also has some hints that I really couldn't cut out). I hope it isn't bad enough not to make up for it. I plan to have the Curry arc wrapped up by the next chapter, and I felt it would've been too rushed if I just included that here.

-'Hush, little baby, don't say a word / Mama's going to buy you a mockingbird' are verses from a lullaby which I didn't know that existed until Eminem entered my life.

-As for Tanya having the same birthday as Ciel, there isn't a specific reason. I had to decide on a date for her, and making them share it seemed like something that would particularly annoy both of them.

-Here are the translations of the French phrases:

_Rendre hommage à la monsieur. _- Pay respect to the sir(?)/gentleman.

_Je suis enchanté de faire votre connaissance._ - Pleased to make your acquaitance.

_Au revoir, Dames. _- Goodbye, Ladies.

_Petite dame. _- Small lady.

_Mamman! _- Mother!

_Merci tante!_ - Thank you aunt!

Also, Comtess is the French equivalent of Countess.

I personally understand French a little, and thus have no idea of grammar rules and such. If there is any mistake, please tell me, and I will fix it.

-Regarding Sebastian taking his surname from the Japanese word _mikairi_, 'repayment', it made more sense in context if his name rather pertained to inquisitor Sébastien Michaëlis of the Dominican order.

-'If she had a good side, that definitely wasn't the way to get on it." is a reference from The Vampire Diaries's Damon Salvatore, 1x17 Let The Right One In. This is the exact quote: 'If I had a good side, not a way to get on it.'

Thanks to all those who favorited, and thanks in advance to those who will continue to do so. Also a big thanks to all those who review. Your words give me inspiration to write.

Um, to answer to a reviewer's question, NightlyRowenTree, I don't think Tanya's demon father will make an appearance very soon. I have already plotted their first meeting, but as long as I'm concerned, it won't happen until after the Public School arc.


End file.
